


Wild Fate

by AeantizLKamenwati



Series: The Heir Apparent(ly) of Niflheim [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Ardyn isn't a total ass, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Avoiding Canon, Eventual Fluff, Explicit Language, Fix-It of Sorts, Headcanon, I Don't Even Know, I typo with honor, Imperial Main Character, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV (2016), M/M, Niflheim, Not Beta Read, Pre-Game(s), Sarcasm to the highest degree, Slow Build, Slow To Update, give it a chance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-01-23 09:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12504772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeantizLKamenwati/pseuds/AeantizLKamenwati
Summary: If someone had told fourteen year old Ferox Aisa that he'd be living in the Insomnian slums and working for the Crown, he would've laughed and had them tried for treason.And yet that is exactly what fate had in store for him. Now nine years later, he's a Kingsglaive, and the only Nif in a city that hates his country's guts. But it's not all bad. Magic is a plus, not being killed or hunted down is nice, and there are some pretty good looking guys in Insomnia. He just wished the past could stay just that: the past.





	1. Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what the hell this is. I just really wanted to write a FFXV story, but didn't want to do it from the Chocobros' POV, and I loved the Kingsglaive (Nyx is beautiful) so Ferox happened...This is about as close to an original story as I've gotten in a long time to be honest...be gentle (nah if you don't like, just don't read it, simple ^.^). Built some headcanons for this, including fleshing out some characters that didn't get a lot of screen time, so some might be different and I'm okay with that. One I'll tell you right now is Niflheim speaks Latin and Lucis speaks a lot of languages but the main one is English, which will be the common language of the four countries (thinking Accordo will be Italian and Tenebrae will be French, but we'll see) 
> 
> Also...I have no idea who exactly Ferox is going to end up with. It's a tie between Noctis, Prompto, Gladio and Nyx (not Ignis because I think Ferox would be a little much for Ignis). I've got an idea for each of them, but can't really decide. SO **if you'd like to weigh in, please do. It'd help me so much.** Because aside from flipping a coin, I'm pretty much stuck. I mean I could write one shots for all of them, but eh...lots of work...
> 
> First chapter is going to be rough because lots of world building shit and I like explaining. What can I say? I've got a style.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Ferox, Heir Apparent of Niflheim having to work for the King of Lucis...aka Fate's a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ferox is latin for "wild" and Aisa is another name for the Greek Fate of Death, Atropos. Basically I'm saying Square Enix can fight me, these boys are living a good, happy life because I say so and I'll fix it. 
> 
> Sorry if this is a lot of info at once. Never was good at editing and restraining when it comes to world building in the beginning... (-_-')
> 
> I'll post a link to my drawing of Ferox soon promise...I just gotta finish it and it's a lot harder than writing.  
> Edit: BOOM He is done! Here's [his uniform](https://aeantizlkamenwati.deviantart.com/art/FFXV-Character-Concept-Ferox-Glaive-Uniform-722147131) and [his tattoos](https://aeantizlkamenwati.deviantart.com/art/FFXV-Character-Concept-Ferox-Tattoos-722148951?ga_submit_new=10%3A1514345838)

If someone had told his fourteen year old self that he’d be living in the Insomnian slums working for the Crown, Ferox would’ve laughed and had them tried for treason. Yet… 

A sigh slipped out his mouth. Water poured down his face, sputtering a few times as he wiggled the hot water knob. Ice cold…again. A few curses whispered to the wall. This was the third time this month his hot water went out. That damn landlord probably didn’t hire professionals to look at it. Ferox narrowed his icy blue eyes at the dingy tile wall as though it was the middle-aged, sweat sock landlord named Mr. Mallus. 

“Fuck it,” Ferox grumbled, “I’ll just go into the maintenance room and fix it myself.” If he could figure out how to fix some old auto crossbow the Crownsguard had lying around, he could figure out how to fix a damn hot water heater. 

His other option would be to start living with Cor again. It would be admitting defeat and open the door to endless snide remarks and jabs from everyone in the Citadel again…but it did come with hot water and a room that wasn’t also a kitchen and living room…These were the dilemmas he faced. 

His phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Ferox growled before rushing to finish his shower. Half-frozen ten minutes later, he wrapped a towel around him. The tiny bathroom’s heater blew stagnant dust into the air. A sneeze echoed off the tiles. He scrubbed the water from his white hair as he looked at his phone. 

One message displayed on the screen from Nyx. _Commander wants us all in the arena by 8_ the message read. He frowned. It was 7:15 on a Thursday. What in the name of the Infernian could the Commander want with them that early on their day off? That didn’t really bode well actually. They all just got back from a mission outside the wall; usually that meant a day or two off to heal up. If they weren’t getting that… 

Ferox sighed to himself, dropping the towel to the ground. He looked into the mirror. A creature of ice and snow stared back at him. Sometimes he was still amazed he hadn’t transformed into a Lucian by now. Other times he’d stare at his white hair, blue eyes and pale skin and think “I should just dye it, get contacts, and get a tan”. It’d be less of a hassle getting ready at least. 

Nothing good came of his appearance anyway. The icy hues of his eyes weren’t too odd, but they still unnerved people with their almost ghost-like gaze. The pale skin automatically pegged him as foreigner. Plus he turned red as a blushing virgin when he exercised and his veins showed through like he was made of glass rather than skin. 

And then his hair. He couldn’t even get it to pass for blonde. It was as snowy white as though Shiva herself created it. It marked him more than anything. Another thought of just cutting it all off flickered through his head. His eyes dropped down to the scissors near his brush. 

His fingers traced the handle before grabbing the brush. He yanked through the tangles down to his waist. _It’d just grow back_ , he told himself. He couldn’t run from his own genetics after all. Once he had gotten it into a silken texture, he quickly braided a few strands. He threw the top layer back into a stylishly sloppy bun, pinning his feathers into it. A few blue beads with gold charms clinked when he put them in his hair. 

He slapped his cheeks as he surveyed the damage the last sleepless nights had done. Dark circles were having a party around his eyes. His skin was sallow as well. He wasn’t so conceited that he did this out of a need to be perfect. Rather it was to avoid being asked “are you okay?” and “did you get any sleep last night?”. The less people looked at him the better. And by now it was a force of habit. 

He dabbed some eye cream under his eyes to get rid of the puffiness. Quickly, he worked the makeup over his skin until he looked bright eyed. “Shoulda became a makeup artist,” he mumbled absently. A few more expert dabs of concealer and the dark veins on his temples disappeared too. 

He glanced down at the healing scabs on the back of his forearm. _I’ll just keep my jacket on_ , he thought. Before he could think longer, he went into the bedroom. His tv flickered silently, some news anchor going on about the coming celebration for the Prince’s eighteenth birthday. His latest project, a broken mp3 player, sat in pieces on his desk. Various plants climbed and crawled over his walls and along the floorboards. 

Ferox tugged on a pair of clean boxers from his floor. At least he was pretty sure the pile of clothes in the basket was clean. He paused, furrowing his eyebrows. When was the last time he did laundry? He snatched a shirt from the pile and gave it a wary sniff. Well it didn’t smell like sweat, gunpowder, or dirt, so he was going to say they were clean. 

He threw on the plain black tee before grabbing his black jeans and putting them on. The bathroom door squeaked as he closed it to get to his uniform on its back. Before long he was geared up in his Glaive uniform. 

A knock on his front door echoed around the room as he was attaching his leg armor. “You awake yet, Fero?” a familiar voice called from the outside. A key rattled in the handle before he could answer. 

“Hey, I didn’t say you could come in,” Ferox growled without looking up at the door. 

He heard a snort, “I’m impressed you managed to wake yourself up before noon today.” Crowe’s voice came from the doorway. He looked up to see Nyx inside the door with Libertus and Crowe behind him in the hallway. 

He glared at them. “I wake up before noon most days.” And he did; he couldn’t be late for work with those three living in the same complex. That and Nyx had a key, so if he didn’t Nyx would just dump water on him…again. 

“Only because we wake you up,” Nyx fired back. Ferox rolled his eyes, attaching his holsters and then tying the blue sash over his hips. All weapons were safe and sound in his locker at the palace per royal order. Only Crownsguards got to have a weapon on them at all times. He grabbed his boots at the foot of his bed and sat to put them on. 

“Any idea what the Commander wants with us today?” Ferox asked. He stomped his boot a few times. He looked up at the three while tying his shoes. Nyx shrugged. 

“Why does he usually call us on our day off?” 

“Something needs blown up?” 

Libertus snorted, “That’s the only reason why he’d be callin’ you, Fero.” 

Ferox feigned insult. He was pretty sure he looked like his mother acting like she was scandalized. “I’ll have you know, I have many talents unlike some backwater jungle monkeys I know.” 

“Oh, so we’re monkeys now?” the burly man cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s a step up from rats.” They all chuckled even though it hit a little close to home. Insomniacs made no secret of their distaste for the refugees that now called the capital their home. Rats they called them. Nevermind that most of those ‘rats’ were Kingsglaive; that just made it worse usually. 

To Insomnia’s natives, the idea that refugees were stealing the magic of the crown was just asking for betrayal. Also it weakened the King, who kept the city’s barriers in place and was generally beloved. How dare refugees steal his life? It was like a slow regicide, had to be a coupe de tat. 

Didn’t matter to them that the Glaive were fighting this war while their ‘good ole soldier boys’, the Crownsguard, were an entirely defensive force. The Guard was the Shield, while the Glaive was the Sword. But no one really cared if some refugees were risking their lives hunting Imperials, buying towns time, or killing daemons. 

Ferox shook his head. He patted his pockets to be sure everything was there. Cell phone, check. Keycard, check. ID, check. House keys, check. Various poisons and diversion vials, check. He stood up from his bed. He clicked the tv off before he turned to his friends. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he dramatically sighed. As though he had a life to get back to. Nyx rolled his eyes, stepping out into the hallway. Ferox closed the door behind him. The lock slid into place. Not enough to stop a determined burglar (and not like he had anything worth stealing), but he supposed it was the principle of the thing. 

When he turned back around, Crowe held out a disposable coffee mug. A bit of steam rose from the lid. She was trying to hold a frown, like she didn’t want to bring him caffeine. Still he smiled. 

“You are so kind, Crowe,” He cooed at her, same as every morning. She rolled her eyes, letting him take it. The coffee itself wasn’t the highest grade, probably going more towards the cheapest if they were entirely honest, but nothing could taste better to someone who hadn’t slept more than three hours. His head was already singing praises to Ramuh just from the smell. 

Crowe crossed her arms. “No, I just figured if you were awake this early, it meant you hadn’t slept at all last night.” Ferox shrugged as he sipped. Sugary, milky coffee assaulted his taste buds. He let out a hum of satisfaction. 

“You know me so well.” Or rather Nyx probably could hear him move around through the paper thin walls and told Crowe to make him some coffee. Whatever. He wasn’t going to complain about free coffee in the morning. 

Libertus clapped him on the back with a smirk, “Even though we wish we didn’t, you damn Imperial dog.” Ferox snorted, flicking up his hood to cover his white hair. 

“Aw, I love you too, Galahdian jungle monkey.” 

***** 

The city started to stir as they walked to the subway station. People began to get ready for the day: opening windows, putting laundry out on the line, a few couples said goodbye on their doorsteps. Some people were out on the sidewalks, heading for one subway or another. Not many people on that side of the city could afford a car…not that there were a lot of people or that the slums were very big. It was home to only one bar after all. 

They passed a brick house that had been tagged. A woman with gray in her hair scrubbed at the colorful words: Go Home Rats. Not an uncommon sight, but still they paused at the tattered gate. Lots of hate sayings decorated the walls of the slums, just as much as the trash and junk on the streets. Even the outer walls that the slums hugged were tagged. 

The woman looked over her shoulder at them. She gave a soft smile and a little nod before rinsing her brush. Ferox sipped on his coffee idly. To a lot of refugees, the Kingsglaive were heroes, or maybe idols. A big f-you to the anti-foreigner attitude years of isolation had caused. They were hope that life would get better. 

And he didn’t know if that was good or just sad. A few other intrusive thoughts followed. How would they react if they knew a ‘Nif’ was one of their heroes? They’d probably curse and spit on him. Probably call the Glaive corrupt too. 

He blinked away those thoughts. They weren’t anything new after all. Even Commander Drautos and the King knew those things. It was why he had to wear a hood and was generally kept from public duties as much as possible. 

The walk to the subway station was quiet as usual. Nyx and Libertus talked about something involving a bar while Crowe added in sarcasm and teasing. Ferox listened, but didn’t join in. Outside the Citadel or his apartment building wasn’t safe; he could almost feel eyes on him with every motion. He tried to be as uninteresting as possible, just a nameless soldier. It was better that way. 

Still, it sucked hiding every day. It was against his very nature, or so he had been told many times. He didn’t have much of a choice though. Every kid in school learned about the three major families: the Lucis Caelums with their dark hair, dark blue eyes, and fancy magic; the Nox Fleurets with their blonde hair, grey blue eyes, and Oracle bloodline; and the Aldercapts with their white hair, ice blue eyes, and general evilness. 

Ferox rather resented the idea that he was born evil, or that his family was just evil and egotistical as well as power-hungry and mad. But that was essentially what Lucians were taught, and his uncle Iedolas wasn’t exactly helping matters. The guy killed his own brother for the throne after all. 

And sure, it wasn’t like the Aldercapts were the only family to have white hair. Silver or white hair was an Imperial trait, what the Empire deemed a “Solheimian pureblood trait”. Blonde was another common color like in Tenebrae. It was just that no one in Eastern Eos had white hair. You were lucky to see five blondes at any time. In Insomnia, a city of browns and blacks, he’d be as obvious as Titan amongst dwarves. 

Crowe bumped her shoulder against his. “Wake up, Fero; are you even paying attention?” She asked. He blinked as though coming back to his body. The subway’s brakes screeched loudly as it approached the platform. He went to take a sip, only to find the cup empty. He didn’t think he spaced out that much. 

“Eh,” was all he said. He tossed the cup into the trash bin near a pillar. The station was pretty empty; most of the morning commuters took the west bound train that went towards the shopping and factory districts where most people worked. This was the north-bound train that headed for the Citadel district. 

They flashed their I.D.s at the ticket man (as though the all black uniforms weren’t a dead giveaway) and shuffled onto the ghost train. Maybe five other people sat on the benches at the front. Ferox took a window seat. Crowe sat next to him; Nyx and Libertus sat with their backs to the wall in front of them. 

“What’s the matter, Fero?” Crowe pushed her shoulder against his again. “Is the Commander ruining a date with your latest boy toy?” She smirked sarcastically at him. 

He snorted. “Ex-boy toy thank you very much.” 

Her eyebrows raised. “Ex? Again? That makes it like five this year.” _Way to rub in my misfortune with dating_ , Crowe, he thought bitterly. 

“What was wrong with this one?” Nyx asked, though he was just as amused. Ferox had more luck taking down a behemoth than he did finding a good guy to date. And they all knew it. Ferox frowned at his friends butting into his love life and making him the morning gossip subject. 

He turned to look out the window as the train started to pull away. “Guy just wanted sex, and I do have some standards, so I dropped him like a hand grenade.” He shrugged, indifferent…or rather accustomed to the little pain in his chest. Most guys he dated just wanted him face down, ass up and call him old fashioned, but he wasn’t into one night stands. 

Nyx made a face while Libertus whistled low. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Fero.” Ferox glared at the burly man. 

“Not my fault that the only type of guy I can pick up are sleazebags that don’t mind not seeing my face.” Which was true in a way. Not a lot of ‘good guys’ were okay with never seeing him without a hoodie on. The ones that said they were fine with it were the first ones to throw ‘I bet you are butt-ugly under that hood’ or something similar when he refused to have sex. 

Who knows, maybe to Lucians he would be ugly? Or would he be considered exotic? Shiva knows that Nyx got all the girls’ attention and he wasn’t that exotic (though he was gorgeous and Ferox was perfectly fine admitting that to the man’s face), so exotic was a relative term. 

“Ah don’t worry, I’m sure someday you’ll find a nice knight in shining armor to steal you away,” Crowe joked. He shoved her shoulder. 

“Why the hell would I want a knight in shining armor? That armor would be brand new, so he hasn’t done anything.” Ferox retorted. “Besides I can put a bullet between a griffon’s eyes, why do I need a knight for anything?” 

She got a playful smile, “Oh so you’d rather be doing the _rescuing_?” 

Luckily, Ferox had grown up around Aranea, Eos’s best poker face holder. Not one drop of color came into his cheeks, not one facial muscle twitched as he let that joke just roll off him. “I’d rather take turns, but that’s another story.” 

***** 

Much of the train ride passed in similar fashion, Crowe and Ferox taking potshots at each other’s dryspell. Nyx just kept sighing wearily when they tried to drag him into it. It kept Libertus entertained at least. 

Before long they were in the Glaives’ training hall of the Citadel. It wasn’t too different from the Guards’ half of the building. They shared a great deal of equipment: obstacles courses (both indoor and outdoor), a large shooting range, and a gym. But the Glaives got “the arena”. 

It was really just a large open-roofed area with a large tower in the middle of it. Sand and dirt covered the ground. The area was themed like a colosseum, even had a viewing area up on the second level balcony. Here they trained recruits in warping, barriers, and other magics. They also did mock battles or sparring here. Mostly to avoid starting a shit storm with the Guards. 

Everyone milled around in the meeting room off the side of the arena. A tv flickered the news silently on the wall. One could easily see the different groups in the Glaive. People from the same region seemed to flock together, with little outliers like Ferox and Crowe sort of attaching to them. 

A few people greeted them as they stepped under the arches. Ferox pushed back his hood. Within the Citadel, he was safe…sorta. At least he wouldn’t get the Guard or cops called on him. He shifted a little on his feet, leaning on a pillar to make himself unnoticeable. His eyes darted around to the different groups, catching pieces of conversations. 

“…bet it was him. He’s always messing up…” one woman whispered. Ferox’s heart stuttered. _She’s not talking about you_ , he scolded himself. Yet…that was the first thing that his mind jumped to. His eyes dropped to the ground. He…wasn’t very good at working with other people which lead him to be reckless and make a lot of mistakes. He knew it; everyone else knew it. But for some reason he never got anything more than gate duty. 

“…he’s only here because of…” floated to him. His stomach twisted. He shivered a little. He knew how that sentence ended, or could guess anyway. _I’m only here because of the Marshal_ or _because of my bloodline_. He had heard it many times in the locker room when there weren’t anyone to reprimand them. 

A part of him always wondered if that was true. Was he only allowed to stay in the Glaive because of Cor? He didn’t think the Immortal would be one to use his job to keep someone else’s…No he knew he wasn’t. Cor was the type of guy who didn’t take failure kindly and what you do is your problem. Still… 

The only reason why Ferox was in the Glaive was because of Cor. He had been the one to suggest they test Ferox for a magical aptitude. He had gotten the okay for the engineering training. He had been the one to decide Ferox needed to start training for the Guard in the first place. Literally everything Ferox had accomplished in Insomnia boiled down to: Cor gave him the opportunity. 

Ferox clenched his jaw tightly against the bitter thoughts. He really didn’t belong here. He was the enemy to most people. He doubted he would’ve been allowed into the city if it weren’t for some stupid political shit. 

He blinked many times. He shoved his emotions to the back of his mind. His body went cold and numb as he locked himself down. _Never show the enemy your weakness_ echoed in his head. A hard learned lesson his mother taught him. 

His friends glanced at each other, sensing his dark mood. “So, Fero,” Nyx started, interrupting Ferox’s anxiety-driven self-hate, “you and the Marshal still having that bet?” Ferox glared at him. 

“I don’t need a babysitter; I’m perfectly capable of living on my own,” Ferox growled. That wasn’t the exact bet, but the basis of it. Sometimes even the Immortal got fed up with Ferox…not that Ferox wasn’t also to blame. He did have far too much pride, which led to arguments that no one remembered and stupid bets. 

Crowe snorted, “Says the man we continually have to wake up so he gets to work on time.” 

“And the man we have to drag out of his house to make him eat,” Libertus added. “Do you even have food in your apartment?” While their voices were jovial, they knew these things were serious. Cor made sure they knew it when Ferox decided to live on his own. 

Ferox frowned. He was eighty-five percent sure the only food in his house was a box of stale crackers in his cupboards. He normally grabbed food out in the city or at the Citadel while he was out. 

Nyx cocked an eyebrow at the Imperial’s silence. “We’re going to take your silence as a no.” When Ferox only glared at the ground, he sighed. 

Ferox cut off the lecture he was no doubt in for, “Appreciate your concern, but I’m fine, guys. I don’t need anyone having to babysit me.” He had enough of people taking care of him because they thought they had to. Always made him feel like a burden, useless deadweight they should just cut off. 

Before anyone could argue, Commander Drautos entered the arena. All conversation stopped. They all stood at attention before the Commander waved for them to relax. This apparently wasn’t going to be a very serious meeting then. Normally he’d tell them to line up before he had even reached the meeting room. 

He walked to the front, clicked off the tv and turned to them, serious as ever. While Cor might actually smile, Ferox couldn’t recall if he’d seen Drautos do the same. Cor was the hard-ass dad that wanted you to be the best you could be, while Drautos was the P.E. teacher from hell that took great pride in sadistic exercises. 

Judging by the unhappy look on the Commander’s face, they were all in for a shit day. “New orders from the King,” Drautos stated calmly. “I’m sure you all heard about the Prince’s upcoming celebrations next week.” 

Ferox snorted quietly. Who hadn’t? That was all the news was anymore. The Prince was turning eighteen and so there was an even bigger celebration this year than normal. Any royal birthday meant tightened security, usually with the Guard out in the city and the Glaive in the Citadel. 

“I’m sure you’ve also heard the rumors about some terrorist attacks, threats to the royal family and what not.” Someone threatened to set off a bomb at the speech, or at the Prince’s school (it had already been on lock down twice this week). A few Citadel workers had been beaten up and their keycards stolen. But the Guard had already handled that. So why were the Glaive getting involved? 

“The King has requested additional security because of these threats.” Drautos looked around the room slowly, looking each soldier in the eye. “We’re the additional security. We’re working in conjunction with the Crownsguard on this, so I expect you all to behave like Glaives and not high schoolers.” Ferox felt a few pointed looks in his direction. It wasn’t his fault everyone was racist. “Terrorists might be easier than MTs, but do not let your guards down. The King asked specifically for us, so try not to disappoint.” He paused for them all to nod. “You’ll be given your reassignments shortly.” 

As if on cue, most of their work phones went off…in fact everyone’s except Ferox’s and Nyx’s made the telltale beeping noise of an urgent message. Ferox’s stomach twisted. What did he do this time? He frantically tried to think back to the last assignment. Did he do anything stupid? He didn’t think so…well…he did chuck a grenade and a fireball at a daemon while someone was engaged with it. He really hoped he wasn’t about to be assigned to a three week hunting detail…again. He hated those. 

Drautos looked over at Nyx. “Nyx, Ferox.” They both straightened into attention again. “I’ve got your assignment here.” He held out a folder. Nyx quietly took it and looked over the first page. Ferox read over his shoulder. It looked like a schedule for…the Prince? 

“Uh…” Nyx looked up at the Commander, “Sir? What exactly do we need to know the Prince’s classes for?” Ferox’s heart started to speed up. His stomach twisted again, this time with enough force to make him want to throw up. If the Astrals existed, this wasn’t what he thought it was. 

Drautos got that wicked glint in his eye. The one that came just before he ordered them to run the obstacle course in the rain until they dropped. “The King doesn’t want to leave this to chance, so he requested an escort for the Prince.” 

“You…you’re going to let **me** escort **The Prince of Lucis**?” A nervous laugh slipped out. “Does the King not have a cat or something he likes much less?” Sure let’s give the guy who doesn’t value his own life let alone anyone else’s escort duty with the sole heir of the country. Makes perfect sense! He could feel a headache starting to form. 

The Commander glared at him for a moment. “You have your orders, Ferox. The King asked for our best and it was… _recommended_ you and Nyx be the two.” 

Oh shit…Ferox could already see how that was going to blow over. His back tensed, knotting up with every second. He could feel glares and accusations being directed towards him. Not for the first time, he sincerely wished to have been born nobody. Or struck by lightning. Either or. 

Nyx seemed all business as he continued to look over the folder. “Shouldn’t this job be left to the Prince’s bodyguard and chamberlain, sir?” 

Drautos explained, “Prince Noctis’s bodyguard and his chamberlain will still be around, but have been briefed on the situation and have agreed for us to take over until the matter is handled.” 

Ferox glanced up at the Commander before looking back over Nyx’s shoulder. The folder seemed to be the Prince’s schedule up until the big birthday celebration next week. A few blueprints of his apartment in the palace, his school, and frequent haunts were also included. So basically, they would be stalking royalty for the next week. Awesome. 

“Guards will be posted out of sight around the Prince’s quarters, but you two,” Drautos seemed close to a sadistic smile as though there was some joke they did not know, “will be in charge of the Prince’s safety. He leaves, you leave. I don’t care if you have follow him on rooftops or in the sewer, understand?” 

Ferox and Nyx shared a look of resigned misery before saluting. Neither of them liked the idea of having to be on call twenty-four seven and everyone hated any form of escort duty. “Yes, sir.” The Commander nodded, still never actually breaking into a smile though it did seem his was enjoying this. 

“Good. You will be reporting to Cor and Sir Amicitia for this assignment, they’ll be waiting for you in the Marshal’s office for your debrief.” The duo nodded. “The rest of you gear up and head to your own assignments.” They all saluted, a familiar chorus of “for hearth and home” sounding around them. 

“Why do I always get stuck with you?” Nyx grumbled, half-heartedly as everyone began to leave. Ferox smirked. He knew Nyx well enough to know he didn’t mind being partnered with him so much. They were a good team after all. Nyx was one of the few who didn’t mind an Imperial at his back, and he was a front line fighter. Ferox was more of the behind the scenes guy. 

“Because your beauty balances out my brains,” Ferox shot back easily. Everyone rolled their eyes. 

“You have brains?” Libertus snorted just as Nyx said drily, “Funny I was thinking the same about you.” 

Ferox put a hand on his hip, a sassy eyebrow raised. “Oh you think I’m pretty?” He batted his eyelashes. Crowe snorted at his dramatic gestures. Even Nyx’s mouth smirked. 

“Are all Imperials this dramatic, or is it just you?” 

“You’ve never met my mother, have you?” Ferox laughed. His mother was one of the biggest drama queens ever. Though, his father also had a flare for the dramatic and the advisor was about as dramatic as they come...so maybe it was an Imperial trait. “We don’t have magic to shoot around, so we have to be flashy in other areas.” Compared to the royal family of Lucis, his family was probably scandalously flamboyant. 

“Saying you’d take Nyx to meet your parents?” Crowe teased. Ferox kept his smile. Now that’d be the day. Of course, kinda hard to bring someone to meet your parents when your parents are dead…but very few people were allowed to know that Ferox wasn’t just some Nif, he was the late emperor’s son. Only people who really knew were the Council (including the King yes), Cor, and Drautos. 

Ferox still played along; lying was second-nature to him by now. “Of course, Nyx is exactly the type you do bring home to your parents.” Nyx rolled his eyes, brushing away the flirt easily. _Ah, someday I’m going to get you to blush_ , Ferox thought with mischief in his eyes. 

In the years they’ve known each other, Nyx had always seemed unfazed about Ferox’s blatant flirting. He never said stop, but he also never responded either...which just made the Imperial try harder to get something out of him. Ferox wasn’t even sure which way the man swung...or if he swung at all. He seemed pretty married to his job and Ferox couldn’t even recall if he ever went out with anyone aside their little group. 

Nyx eyed him warily, expecting some prank in the future probably. “Compared to all the guys you date, yeah, I’m golden,” he admitted. Ferox frowned as the others laughed. Before he could retort, Nyx jerked his head towards the barracks (the fancy word for a glorified locker room). “Let’s get our gear and report, wouldn’t want the Immortal making us do laps around the Citadel with the Guard recruits.” Ferox shivered. 

He remembered having to go through that very well. Originally he was supposed to be in the Guard, not the Glaive. He had just turned fifteen, had just came to Insomnia to escape being killed. It was decided no one was to know who exactly he was, and he needed to have a close eye kept on him at all times. The Crownsguard seemed like an obvious place for him to be kept. 

That was how he got to spend every moment not in school (for the Crown did pay for him to complete school) under the watchful eye of the Immortal Marshal Cor Leonis. He ran laps, obstacle courses, sparring matches, weapons training...Strangely it was normal. As the Heir Apparent of Niflheim, he had already been through years of that same training...it was about the only thing about his situation that felt normal. 

After all he was in the enemy country, a fugitive of his own country, and...well just being out of the palace was a strange thing to him. The training helped him settle in a bit easier. 

Still he didn’t want to be reduced to a recruit once again…he had passed all the tests after all. And he hated the pettiness of recruits. Just the memory of having to endure hours of them making snide remarks about him staying with the Marshal was enough for him to almost jog to the barracks. 

***** 

“So any idea why someone would recommend us to guard the Prince?” Nyx asked. He kept his voice quiet so it would be drowned out by the various lockers slamming, the showers running, and people chatting. The stone walls echoed everything around down there. 

Ferox paused opening his locker. Why would they recommend them? Well, Nyx was a hero, so that wasn’t surprising. He was about the closest thing to second-in-command the Glaive got. Ferox on the other hand…not only was he not supposed to make a scene (or be in public view), he was…just a grunt really. So why pick him? 

He frowned at the lock for a moment. Something was fishy. The lock clicked open with a twist of his hand.

A picture of his mother sat tucked away in the back. Her hand held delicately against her chin as she turned to look at the camera, no smile to be found, her silver hair neatly pinned by ornate sticks for all eternity. The tattoo upon her hand, one nearly identical to his own, was displayed proudly, bright green eyes defiant and haughty. 

Ferox smiled sadly at his mother. He remembered a lot of bad things about growing up, which made him cling to the good things that slipped from his mind often. He shook his head. His daggers’ sheathes hung from a hook. 

Someone snapped in his ear. His head jerked to the side. “What?” He growled, jerking the daggers out. 

Nyx smirked at him. “You are spacing pretty badly today.” 

“I didn’t sleep much.” It was a lame excuse, but the only one he had at the moment. Nyx studied him as he attached the identical kris daggers on his lower back. He’d have to stop by the armory for his guns. Ferox glanced over at him. “If you keep looking at like that, I might get the wrong impression, Hero.” He batted his eyes at him. 

Nyx snorted. “Keep dreamin’, Fero.” 

He shrugged, “Eh, my mother always told me to shoot for the stars.” Well it was more like to get to the stars, you had to have hardship, but beside the point. Nyx rolled his eyes, leaning against his locker while Ferox got a few of his tools into place. Most of it was so he could fix a weapon should it break, but a few were…less than legal tools he wouldn’t disclose. 

“So no idea why we got picked?” Nyx asked again. Ferox sighed. He wished his stupid brain wouldn’t automatically take offense to that question. Nyx didn’t mean it like that. 

“Nope, not one damn clue why they’d pick me. You, well, maybe you should stop showing off your hero skills and you wouldn’t get babysitting duty.” Ferox dodged the playful punch aimed at him. 

Nyx laughed. “Stop setting things on fire, and we’ll talk.” 

Ferox put the back of his hand to his forehead as though he might faint. “Never. What you ask of me is too great.” 

***** 

The Marshal’s office was located on the Guard’s half of the building. Which meant a nice, brisk stroll through the training grounds. Several people were there already. Ferox flinched when a few of them stopped what they were doing to gawk at the two Glaives. 

Nyx didn’t seem to mind. Of course, they were the newbies probably. Most Guards knew the all black uniform and ignored it. Civilians may know of the uniform, but they hardly ever saw them outside the Citadel district. After all, the Glaive was primarily used against the Imperial Army, not a peacekeeping force. 

“Ignore them, Fero,” Nyx mumbled as he glanced sideways. Ferox hardly noticed his back knotting tightly. 

A nervous snort came out of him. “Easy for you to say, everyone loves you.” 

“That’s because I don’t look like I’m about to murder everyone most of the time.” Nyx joked. “Combine that with your hood, and you look like a common thug.” 

“Ouch, how dare you call me common.” His tone was dramatic, like he was truly wounded by the word ‘common’. “I should have you thrown in jail for such an insult.” A little smirk played about Nyx’s lips as they walked down the hall. 

“You’ll live.” 

Tucked away in a corner sat the fancy door to Cor’s office. “Ramuh…it feels like I got sent to the principal’s office again,” Ferox muttered to himself. 

Nyx eyed him for a moment. “I think the Marshal’s a bit more intimidating than a school teacher.” 

Ferox chuckled, “True…but I do remember having to come here whenever I got in trouble at school, so he’s like the principal.” 

“I’d have thought you’d stop getting in trouble, then.” 

“Nope. What can I say, I like attention.” The sly smile on his face didn’t touch his eyes. Painful memories surfaced unbidden. He shoved them down, back into the box in his mind to collect more dust. He didn’t need any more of that shit right now. 

Nyx knocked on the door. A few seconds went by before a gruff ‘enter’ came from behind it. They shuffled into the room, the door clicking shut ominously. Ferox looked back at it before staring at the two men at the desk. 

Cor, Ferox was intimately familiar with. He had been tasked with providing Ferox a home when he first came to Insomnia. Since he had to be supervised (after all he might be trying to overthrow the Crown from the inside like a sneaky Imperial), that meant he stayed in Cor’s home. In school, he even had to pose as his nephew. He and Cor got along well enough, Ferox would even say he looked up to him (Shiva knows his own father sucked as a role model)…just never to his face. 

Now…Clarus Amicitia was a different story. Almost immediately their eyes locked. An animosity hovered between them as they politely glared at the other. The King’s Shield had never liked him even when he was first presented to the King. Probably didn’t like his sharp tongue and standoffish attitude. 

“We were told to report to you,” Nyx smoothly cut in. Clarus gave one last chilling gaze at Ferox before looking to the other Glaive. 

Cor glanced at his companion, but didn’t comment. “I assume you’ve read the file?” They both nodded. “Good, then this will be short.” He picked up a box from his desk. He spoke as he walked around to them. “Use these to communicate with the rest of the team; you’ll also get updates on the perimeter and various other details, so don’t mess with the frequency.” Ferox smiled cheekily at the pointed look he got. "I expect a full report on my desk by the next morning." _Of course there's written homework_ Ferox thought glumly. Sucks to be Cor though, Ferox's handwritten was...sloppy and pretty at the same time. 

“Right, sir,” Ferox spoke with fake innocence. He took the ear piece and placed it in his ear. A little spark made his ear drum twitch when the electronic fired up. Stupid magic shocks. That was one thing he never got used to: the sudden reaction to electronics the King’s magic had. People who were trained all their life like the Amicitias probably didn’t have that problem, but both him and Nyx jumped at the shock. 

“What exactly are we supposed to do besides escort the Prince?” Nyx asked. 

Clarus spoke up this time. “This is primarily a precaution. We don’t expect there to be any real trouble, but would like to prepare for the worst.” 

“Si vis pacem, para bellum,” Ferox said quietly, speaking his mother tongue. Nyx stared at him strangely. Not like this was the first time he used an Imperial idiom. Sometimes he got them confused with Lucian ones. So he was probably wondering what possessed him to say that in front of the King’s Shield who really did not like Imperials. “Want for peace, prepare for war.” 

Clarus didn’t say anything, but his jaw flexed. He continued on as if Ferox never spoke. “The King hopes two Glaives might deter anyone from attacking Prince Noctis.” Well, the Glaive did have a lot flashier uniforms than the Guard who just look like fashionable civilians with weapons on their belts. At least the non-guard-duty ones anyway. 

“And if someone does decide to tempt fate?” Nyx asked. Cor straightened, a grim and determined look on his face. Well…grimmer. 

“You two are to engage while Gladiolus and Ignis get the Prince to safety. Once he is out of harm’s way, you are to attempt to arrest them or wait until the Guard shows up.” Ferox and Nyx shared a look. So they were the Sword rather than the Shield in this escort duty. Cannon-fodder might be another way to describe it. 

Ferox frowned when he looked back at Cor. “Say they don’t cooperate, what then? Are we allowed to use magic?” He didn’t say it, but he was wondering if ‘deadly force’ would be allowed. 

Cor and Clarus looked at each other for a moment. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but if they resist capture or propose a direct threat to the Prince or the city, you are authorized to use whatever means necessary.” A dark look passed over Clarus’s face as he spoke. 

“Any other questions?” Cor crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. 

Ferox shifted on his feet. Something wasn’t sitting right here. Why ask the Glaive to escort the Prince? If it were regular terrorists, the Crownsguard was more than equipped to deal with them safely. They might not have magic, sure, but that would only help so far. And yeah the Glaive stood out in a crowd, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. 

So…why? He guessed there might be something to do with reputations here. The Kingsglaive were considered to be fighters; to some they were deadly assassins and others thought them magic-throwing thugs. It might deter troublemakers, sure. But why specifically him and Nyx? 

Cor watched him debate with himself before sighing. “Got a question, Ferox?” Ferox glanced up through his white eyelashes before straightening. He let go of his lip he had been chewing unconsciously. 

“Why us? Specifically, sir. Any Glaive could’ve done this.” He tried to keep his tone neutral, like he wasn't suspecting some sneaky underhanded deal beneath this all. 

“The King asked for the best,” Clarus shrugged. “Or are you claiming not to be?” 

Ferox snorted. He didn’t buy it. Nyx…yeah he was the best the Glaive had, but himself? Nope. He was a decent enough marksmen, adept at spells, and proficient at swordplay, but he wouldn’t say he was the best at any of those things. “Never said that. This just seems…odd for someone to recommend the one Glaive that’s supposed to be kept from the public’s eye to be on a mission where he would no doubt _be in the public’s eye_.” 

Cor smirked…sorta. It was so hard to tell when the man smiled! Ferox narrowed his eyes at that half-second expression. Something was totally not right here. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Ferox.” 

Yeah that wasn’t ominous at all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, THANK YOU FOR AT LEAST GETTING TO THE END!!! You are beautiful person and I wish you much happiness and success. 
> 
> I do have another story with Ferox in it, it's a one-shot basically with him and Noctis, but I kinda wanted to get this up and going before that one so I don't have to do a lot of explaining... And seriously I have no idea who Ferox is going to be with because obviously him and Nyx have a good friend relationship that could work well, you've got the drama that goes along with him dating Noctis, him and Prompto would be cute I think, and then the drama of Gladio dating him when his dad hates Ferox. Never really thought of Ignis to be honest...Decisions...


	2. Dulcissimus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships are hard and Ferox has the social skills of a Tonberry. Escort missions are boring and Ferox doesn't handle boredom well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of notes here: So I can never choose, thus while this main fic will be Noctis/Ferox, I will (hopefully) be doing some other shorter stories with other pairings...They'll be in this series though.
> 
> Also just an fyi, but in this setting Nyx's sister didn't die (what part of everybody lives didn't you get? XD) just their mom. She's paralyzed from the waist down, but very much alive. Keeps his usual protectiveness and source of his flashbacks while letting me make it slightly better (also plot reasons). 
> 
> Dulcissimus is ancient Latin (so Roman times, not modern day Spanish Latin) for sweetest, which, according to all of my research (including trying to read a very technical and dry manuscript of all the known Latin endearments), is a title/pet name parents used with their sons (it's the masculine form anyway). Granted they usually stopped calling them that around age 9 or something, but I decided it's a cute little nick name Ferox got called.
> 
> Aannnd Last but not least...ART! [His uniform](https://aeantizlkamenwati.deviantart.com/art/FFXV-Character-Concept-Ferox-Glaive-Uniform-722147131) and [his tattoos](https://aeantizlkamenwati.deviantart.com/art/FFXV-Character-Concept-Ferox-Tattoos-722148951?ga_submit_new=10%3A1514345838)

“Wait, wait, wait…” Ferox muttered. His eyes flicked back over the sentence again, not believing what he was reading. “The Prince has a part time job as a short-order cook?” No matter how many times he looked over the sentence, it didn’t sound right. Since when did princes work for money? Since when was royalty even allowed to do menial jobs? 

Nyx looked over at the folder. They were parked not far from the Prince’s school, waiting for the final school bell. The car’s radio hummed quietly on some pop station. Supposedly the Chamberlain would be meeting them soon, so he might explain to the Prince what was going on…without the mention of death threats. 

“Apparently,” Nyx shrugged as though it wasn’t weird. Ferox furrowed his eyebrows at him. 

“He’s a Prince.” 

Nyx smirked, “So? Doesn’t mean he can’t learn what it’s like to work for a living.” Ferox nearly snorted. He wanted to say Lucians were weird letting royalty and common people mingle, but that just sounded pretentious. Of course, that was his upbringing speaking. 

“It’s still weird; he’s like the least princely Prince I’ve heard of,” Ferox grumbled finally. Going to a regular school, having an apartment outside the palace, working…all of it was foreign to him. He hadn’t left the palace without armed escorts and he was never allowed to just walk around. “And the King lets him?” 

“Well, can you blame him wanting to let his kid live a normal life before he has to rule an entire country?” 

_City_ , Ferox corrected in his head. The Imperial Army controlled pretty much everything outside of Insomnia. “It’s just…weird.” Ferox glared at the papers. He somewhat wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up as a son first, and an heir second. He couldn’t really comprehend it to be honest. After all, his first taste of a “normal” life was having to go to high school when he came to Insomnia…and that wasn’t the best experience. 

Nyx chuckled, “How’s royalty like in the Empire?” Ferox hid his wince, adopting a smooth, neutral face. 

“Common folk hardly ever see them outside of press conferences or big events.” _Royalty does not mingle with the masses; they guide them_ , his mother often said. _A shepherd doesn’t befriend his flock, he watches over them to keep the wolves at bay. Befriending someone you might have to sacrifice someday would only serve to break your will and make you hesitate; an Emperor can have no such baggage._

Hell his only friend growing up was his Shield, Aranea. And sometimes he wondered if she was just his friend because she was sworn to protect him…He wouldn’t care if that was the case, of course. She was a nice friend to have in the palace, regardless of why. 

He shoved those thoughts away, unless he became melancholic. He hadn’t seen her in…what? Nine years? He didn’t even know if she was still alive. 

A sigh slipped out. Nyx cocked an eyebrow liked he sensed there was something Ferox wasn’t saying. “So…you never seen the Emperor? Or the one before that one, I guess?” Nyx knew Ferox came to Insomnia around the time the previous Emperor was assassinated by some rebels. He also knew there were strict rules around Ferox just being in the city, so he didn’t usually pry into his friend’s life. 

Ferox shrugged at the question. “I saw him, sure, but not like Lucians see King Regis.” Ferox only saw his father occasionally at meals or when he went around to the bases throughout the Empire and took Ferox along with him. He spent more time with his mother who oversaw his schedule and lessons. “The previous guy was a little more personable than Iedolas; lots more press conferences and actually showed up for speeches. Iedolas just cares about the war.” 

Nyx snorted in agreement. Ferox flipped through the rest of the folder, looking over blueprints for the Prince’s apartment. There was another person’s file as well: Prompto Argentum, a close friend of the Prince’s, liked photography, C average, jogged. Nothing really special about the kid…save one detail. The kid was born in Niflheim and was adopted into the Argentum family when he was still a baby. 

Ferox cocked an eyebrow at that detail. This Prompto certainly had the look of an Imperial, though he could’ve passed for a Tenebraean. He was raised an Insomniac, though; thus, to Ferox, he was as Lucian as Nyx. He…just looked kinda familiar…which was insane since Ferox was about six years older than the kid who was adopted in his first year. Still it was eerie. 

“There’s the Chamberlain,” Nyx smacked his shoulder lightly. Ferox was suddenly glad he hadn’t taken off his hood despite the dark tinted windows. “Right on schedule.” 

“I hear the Chamberlain is a stickler for protocol,” Ferox snorted. Some people went as far to call him the Prince’s babysitter, but never within earshot of anyone important. Ignis stepped out of his car, gathered a few things, before locking it and heading for their borrowed car (can’t pick the Prince up in a shabby vehicle after all…and neither of them actually owned a car). 

“Hey, he’s dedicated to his job, can’t fault him for that.” 

“Uh-huh, ten gil says he has one of those digital planner things and phone alarms for the Prince’s schedule twenty minutes in advance.” Nyx rolled his eyes, though a smirk played on his lips. “And apologizes for being late when he’s not.” 

Ignis opened the car door a moment later. “Apologies, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.” Nyx glanced over at Ferox who smirked at him. What could he say? He had learned how to read people early on. 

“We got here early, so no worries, Lord Scientia,” Nyx replied smoothly. He waited until Ignis’s seatbelt clicked before putting the car in drive and gliding out of the parking lot. 

“Please, Ignis is just fine.” 

“Of course,” Ferox replied flatly. This wasn’t awkward…nope…no way. He fidgeted. The air held all the weirdness of a professional state dinner where everyone pretended to like everyone despite either not knowing someone or hating their guts. He looked up in the rear view mirror to see Ignis looking just as uncomfortable as him. “So…you’ve been filled in on the details, yeah?” 

Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose. “Yes, the Marshal explained the plan to Gladiolus and I this morning.” Ferox noticed how his eyes kept darting over to him in the mirror. His hood kept his face obscured, so he bet the Chamberlain was a bit uneasy not seeing his face. 

“Well, that saves a lot of time,” Ferox chuckled. 

“He did not mention who was assigned to the Prince, however,” Ignis pointed out politely. Ferox nearly grabbed his heart with a dramatic gasp. 

“My mother would be rolling in her grave,” he mumbled. “I’m Ferox,” he knew better than to drop the last name Aisa around a born and bred noble. “And my lovely assistant here is Nyx, Nyx Ulric. He also responds to Hero and Dumbass.” Nyx glared at him from the corner of his eyes. Ferox laughed, smirking evilly. 

“You are so lucky I’m driving,” Nyx growled lowly at him. “And try to be professional, hmm?” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Nyx; I’m the epitome of professionalism.” 

Nyx rolled his eyes. “I apologize on his behalf; we are still working on his social skills.” 

“How dare you,” Ferox feigned outrage, though laughter rang in his tone. He could see Ignis’s eyes darting between them, as though trying to figure out who the hell they just put in charge of the Prince’s safety. “You’re wondering why pick us to guard your charge?” 

“I’m sure you are both capable,” Ignis smoothly dodged. 

“But you’re still worried,” Nyx noted. “Understandable.” He gave that winning smirk over his shoulder as he stopped at a light. “Ferox might not act like it, but he can be serious when it counts.” 

“And we call Nyx ‘hero’ for a reason.” Ferox shrugged. “So don’t worry your pretty head too much, we got the Prince covered.” 

***** 

Ferox tapped out a tune on his leg as they drove through town. It was mostly to keep from fiddling with all the knobs and buttons in front of him. And…he was a tiny, just a smidgen really, anxious. He had the distinct urge to run despite being trapped in the car. 

He couldn’t help it; he always had issues meeting new people. As a boy, he’d cower behind his mother’s skirts. Now he just outright avoided it. Heavily. Entirely really. Unless he was drunk…which he wasn’t. 

Nyx and Ignis discussed something he really should’ve listened to, but he was too busy wondering if it’d kill him to jump out of the car? They were stuck in traffic, crawling along with the other parents who picked up their kids. So he didn’t think it’d hurt…and having the King’s magic meant he healed a lot faster…he could probably walk it off… 

“Are you even listening, Fero?” Nyx lightly snapped in his ear. Ferox kept staring out the window. 

“No, I’m debating if jumping out of the car is an option…” He mumbled to his reflection. He heard Nyx sigh beside him. 

“It’s a terrible option,” Nyx commented. He saw the Galahdian glance over at him. “I’m pretty sure the Prince doesn’t bite.” 

“Not unless you try feeding him vegetables,” Ignis noted drily. Ferox’s head snapped back to look at him. Did he just…make a joke? Ignis’s face betrayed no hint of sarcasm. Nobles were weird that way. 

Ferox cocked an eyebrow (not that any of them would’ve seen it). “The kid doesn’t eat vegetables? Still?” Ignis chuckled wearily at his disbelief. 

“As far as he knows.” A tiny hint of an evil smirk played on one corner of his mouth. Nyx and Ferox glanced at each other. Suddenly the Chamberlain didn’t seem as uptight. When Ferox looked back at Ignis, he was studying him. “May I ask if it is protocol for Glaives to wear their hoods at all times?” His tone said he already knew it wasn’t. 

Ferox smirked, “It’s my protocol.” This time Ignis’s eyebrow rose. “Adds to my charm, don’t you think?” Internally, Ferox was screaming and praying to the Six that he would drop the subject. This…this is why he was kept away from most of the nobles! They had like a royal-detector built into them, like they could smell the power and privilege on him. He was pretty sure he smelt like cheap deodorant and soap, but underneath that was definitely privilege. 

Ignis made a displeased look, unimpressed by Ferox’s flirty ego. _Please stop looking at me…_ Ferox cried in his head as he turned back around. He fidgeted in his seat again. Thankfully, the school came into view. 

“Right, well, here we are, right on schedule,” Nyx mumbled into the tense car. Suddenly their ear pieces flickered to life. Ferox jumped as a spark his eardrum. 

“Ramuh, I wish that’d stop…” Ferox whined. “You’d think by now the Crown would’ve figured out how to fix it where I don’t get electric shock therapy every time I get orders…” Nyx hummed his agreement, gritting his teeth. Reports of the perimeter started calling in from the other teams. 

The car slid into the pick-up area of the school. Nyx threw it into park, leaning over to look up at the building. “So how should we handle this?” 

Ferox shrugged. “Run in, grab the Prince, run out?” He was joking of course. Though grabbing the Prince and running to some bunker for the rest of the week did sound like an ideal plan. 

“We are not kidnapping the Prince,” Nyx rolled his eyes. “We’re supposed to protect him, not traumatize him.” He killed the engine. 

“If I may…” Ignis interjected. The two Glaives turned to look back at him. “Class should be dismissed soon.” As soon as the last word was out, the bell screeched around the campus. Well that solved that. Nyx and Ferox exited the car. 

Ferox opened the door for the Chamberlain. His mother did raise him right after all (…well sorta anyway). Ignis opened his mouth as though to protest, but closed it after a thought. He spoke as he stepped from the car, “If you will allow me to explain the situation to Prince Noctis…” He started. Nyx stood next to Ferox leaning against the side of the car. 

“Sure,” Ferox muttered. “Not like we could stop you if you really wanted to.” Soon students began to filter out of the building. Most of them immediately noted the sleek black car in front with two men in uniforms. Little groups started to whisper amongst themselves. 

By the time the Prince and his spiky blond friend exited the building, Ferox was sure everyone in school knew there were Kingsglaive outside and by tomorrow they’d be armed to the teeth. The Prince stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of them. Both Glaives stood into attention. 

“That’s the look of a man who expects terrible news…” Ferox mumbled. Ignis waved as he started for the two. 

“He probably thinks something happened to the King with us being here,” Nyx answered, watching all around him. Their ear pieces buzzed as confirmations of a secure perimeter came in from the guards. 

The Prince slowly relaxed as Ignis explained, minus the threats and mishaps. It was just supposed to be an added precaution with the coming celebration. Nothing out of the ordinary with such high tensions. 

Ferox watched as dark blue eyes narrowed, looking at his Chamberlain then up to the Glaives. Something didn’t add up in the Prince’s head. Smart kid. “He doesn’t buy it,” Ferox mumbled. 

Nyx snorted, “Give the kid some credit, he’s dealt with politics his whole life, should be used to it by now.” 

“By ‘it’, do you mean ‘being in the dark’?” Because that’s all they were trying to do: keep the Prince in the dark about the situation. Judging from all the weird things Noctis got to do, he was pretty sure Noctis got left out when it came to politics. Sure he might have sat in on a few councils, got lessons in law and what not, but Ferox sincerely doubted he knew much about the day to day things. Including death threats. 

“Shut it, Fero. Ignorance is bliss.” 

Ferox could’ve laughed at that statement. Maybe it was because his parents had kept him in the dark about the threats on his own life, and then suddenly having to face the grim reality, but lying about the situation rubbed him the wrong way. Ferox was turning fifteen when that reality hit him, Noctis was turning eighteen. He didn’t know the kid, but he was pretty sure he could handle it. 

“Right up until someone kills you,” he whispered mostly to himself. He fought against the dark thoughts starting to surface again. _I’ll deal with it later_ had become his mantra in the last few years. He functioned much better if he pretended to forget about it all; sometimes he really did forget it all. 

Ignis lead the two boys back to the car with almost every kid in school watching. The friend, Prompto, looked around. His shoulders tensed, a worry line forming between his eyebrows. Noctis, however, looked undaunted by the looks and the whispering. 

“Noct, these are the two Glaives assigned to you,” Ignis motioned them. “Nyx Ulric,” Nyx gave slight bow…well he just dipped his head and shoulders in what might have been a bow in Galahd for all Ferox knew. Someday he’d teach him manners… “And this is Ferox…I’m afraid I didn’t catch your last name.” 

Ferox gave a wry grin as he bowed with as much grace and dignity as his mother drilled into him. “‘S not important.” As he straightened, Prompto and Nyx were staring at him like he had three heads. “What?” He directed his question towards Nyx, but the man was puzzled into silence. Score. 

“Dude…you just…” When Ferox turned his head towards Prompto, the blonde jumped and finished the sentence in a stammered mess. Ferox only smirked half-heartedly. _This was going to be awesome_ , he thought sarcastically. He just **loved** spending a lot of time with new people... The stuttering petered off into tight lipped silence. Skittish little thing huh? Well then again, he was wearing a hood and the uniform that most people recognized on sight as “trained killers”. 

Ferox chuckled to himself. Sometimes, just sometimes, he liked unsettling people. “Shall we get you to your lessons, Your Highness?” He asked. Ignis cocked an eyebrow, as though surprised at the professional tone he took. 

Noctis shifted his bag and finally spoke, “Gladio texted me, said he had to deal with some stuff so training is cancelled today.” His eyes were trained on the ground, like he was trying to work through something in his head. Ifrit only knew what though. 

“So your apartment?” Nyx began circling back around to the driver’s side. “Your friend tagging along?” Ferox opened the car door again, making a grand gesture for them to get in. Prompto and Noctis looked at each other, Ignis kept his face completely neutral. They were seriously wondering why this clown got Prince duty. 

_That makes all of us_ , he thought bitterly. 

***** 

The car ride was…awkward. Not only did the friends have two strangers in front, but they were all crammed in the backseat. Prompto, being the smallest, got the middle and was none too happy about it either. Luxury car or not, the backseat was definitely not the most comfortable with three guys. Unless they were all cool with that… 

As it were, Prompto tried to make himself as small as possible, not moving at all when they had to turn. He hugged his bag to his chest and stared straight ahead. Noctis on the other hand had hunkered down, staring out the window. Ferox had heard the Prince liked to nap, but he had no idea he was like a cat… 

Ignis was the most uncomfortable of the trio. He looked so stiff as though he had trouble letting other people drive. Or maybe Nyx’s driving skills were frightening? Ferox could only guess. He doubted the Chamberlain was trained in defensive driving, though, so Nyx was the designated driver for the week. 

Ferox, himself, sat slightly forward in his seat. His eyes stared out the window, hands fidgeting with the good luck beads at his hip. The metal, worn smooth from his years of doing it, clicked loudly in the silence. His tongue wouldn’t sit comfortably in his mouth…and he was acutely aware of it. Where does your tongue rest? Does it ever rest? 

“So…Noct…” Prompto whispered in the back. “Um, did you get all the notes from science class?” Ah, awkward small talk. Ferox internally winced. 

The Prince hadn’t fallen asleep yet apparently for he mumbled, “Tried to, but he erased half of it before I could get it down.” Prompto gave a little nervous chuckle. 

“Yeah? That’s better than me.” 

“You spaced out again didn’t you?” Noctis gave a fond chuckle. “What was it this time? The girl in front of you—” 

“No!” Ferox winced at the shout. Nyx smirked and glanced up at the rearview mirror for a second. “I just…the sky looked so perfect outside I kinda started to think about how to set up for the shot and…” 

Noctis let the silence stretch for a moment before deciding to spare his friend. “I can let you see what I got.” 

“Thanks…” 

And with that, the car lapsed back into silence. Ferox ran his tongue around his mouth and lips. His foot started tapping idly. He tried to concentrate on the outside. Lots of people were walking around…doing nothing interesting. All the streets looked the same: crowded, somber, and unapologetically Lucian. 

Oh, he was sure there weren’t major differences between Insomnia and Graela. Graela was just as big and crowded as the Crown City. Lots of buildings crammed together with signs everywhere. But…he didn’t feel claustrophobic in Graela. Everything there felt…more open, less condensed and packed. 

Maybe it was the dark hues of Insomnia that made it seem smashed together. Everything was brown, black, or grey bricks. Graela had whites, golds, and reds with the occasional blue or purple; a thousand mosaics decorated the walls and streets. Or was it the style? Compact, and metropolitan, even the apartments and side streets were barely big enough to hold a mouse. It wasn’t until you got to the Citadel district that you got variety into the mix and even those seemed uniform… 

“You are doing it again,” Nyx mumbled next to him. Ferox blinked, turning away from the window to look at him. His friend glanced over and then chuckled. “You’re popping your lips.” Ferox pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“Sorry…” he whispered under his breath. He tried to stare ahead of him, locking his body into an uncomfortable stiffness. _Get me out of here…please_ , he cried in his head. Was the car getting smaller? Or was it just the awkwardness filling every available space that he felt? 

Nyx kept his smile as he pulled into the apartment building’s garage. Ferox’s hand was on the handle, ready to dart out into the open air at any point in time. He probably would’ve jumped sooner if the damn car didn’t have safety locks. 

As soon as Nyx threw it into park, Ferox was out of the car. Why did he have to be the one stuck on this mission? He hated social things. Even as a kid, the bane of his existence were state parties. The clothes were itchy, the people were fake, and he spent most of his time in the corner sipping punch. High school in Insomnia taught him very well that the corner was a safe place, less likely to attract unwanted attention…and get punched. 

He sighed to himself. He wanted his corner back. 

***** 

The oppressive awkwardness from the car followed them all the way up to the apartment. In the elevator, Ferox pressed himself against the wall as much as possible. When it stopped on the floor, he was the last one to get off. 

All clears sounded into his sore ear. Seriously, when was that going to stop? Still he looked around as the Prince dug for his keys. 

Definitely a rich apartment building. Fine wooden floors, nice paneling on the walls…probably a working hot water heater… 

“I apologize; I did not have time to stop by and clean,” Ignis’s voice drew his attention back to the apartment. The three moved in. Ferox stalled at the door. His spine tensed as he looked over the scene. 

Magazines, comics, games, movies, and other things like dirty dishes…was that a towel on the ground? In the living room? It looked like a raging Chocobo ran through there. He could see a fine layer of dust over some of the game discs…shiny side up on the counter. He counted no less than five cases open with the wrong title inside them. 

Ferox’s eye twitched. This was hell. Plain and simple. He had died and this was hell. Nyx put a consolatory hand on his shoulder as he looked over the chaos too. 

“Be strong, Ferox.” He joked. But Ferox didn’t smile at all. He swallowed down the scream building in his throat. 

“I’m going to die,” Ferox whispered to himself. His right hand twitched. How did someone live…with this much stuff…everywhere? He could hear his mother scolding him just behind his ear. Everything had to be perfect; when he was younger, he often thought that meant: there must be no trace of him as a person. No toys left out of a bin, no pencils or drawing pads sitting around. Nothing. Every trace of habitation couldn’t exist. 

A low whine escaped his throat. He supposed he was kinda OCD about things now and he really should try to get over it. But…it was like an ant crawled under his skin and started biting him. 

“Deep breaths, Fero. You’ll survive.” Nyx gave him a little push into the disaster zone. The Prince was staring at him with a cocked eyebrow. 

“There a problem?” Noctis asked the seemingly frozen Glaive. Ferox grimaced. 

_Don’t be rude, Ferox; this kid gets to decide if you stay once his ass is on the throne,_ he reminded himself. He swallowed down any comment he had about this dusty hell. He silently shook his head. 

Ferox watched his boots as he picked his way around the random piles of…things to the other side of the room. He absently rubbed his right glove, trying to coax the tattoo down. 

“Uh…you okay there buddy?” Prompto asked with a nervous chuckle. Nyx smirked. 

Ferox’s lips twitched as he tried very hard to keep his sarcasm to a tame level. _Oh sure, everything’s fine,_ he wanted to say, _I just love worrying that I’m going to get eaten by one of the piles of things in the room…_. “It’s nothing,” he said coldly. 

Ignis cocked an eyebrow. “Truly? Because you look about ready to run for the hills.” Ferox nearly narrowed his eyes, but caught himself. Try not to make a scene here, Fero… 

“It’s fine. Pay me no mind, Your Highness.” 

The three didn’t seem to believe him, but the ice in his tone seemed to warn them off. Glaives weren’t there to talk. They were there to guard…like gargoyles. Statues when not needed, deadly brutes when they were. 

Nyx shook his head quietly. He stood guard near the door while Ferox took a window on the opposite side. He was closer to the sofa and could easily see down the hall to the bedrooms. Nyx would be out of sight if someone came from the front door and could watch the large wall of windows…because you know someone might try to get into this room from the outside…this room that was about 25 floors up… 

Noctis and Prompto sat at the table, pulling out their school work while Ignis went about tidying up. Thank Ramuh for the small things at least. Ferox fought against the urge to help him. He crossed his arms, flexing and relaxing him twitching hand. The room was silent as the minutes crept by. 

He tried to focus on other things…besides the clutter. Which was everywhere. Nope, he was so not focusing on the mess. Instead he studied (well glared at really) the others. He could actually see their faces clearly and there was little risk they’d notice him staring. He didn’t think it was weird; he just liked figuring out people’s faces like from an artist's point of view…Was that weird? It was weird, huh? 

But damn, he really wanted to draw them. It wasn’t even their looks that made him want to draw them either. Sure that was a factor (he’d be lying if he said they weren’t cute in their own way…cute as in a chocobo, not as in a creepy, two of them are still technically minors way…that’d be weird…er, weirder). But as he watched, he found unique differences in their…energy? Behavior? Whatever the hell you want to call the thing that gave them a sort of gods-awful bright beauty. 

Prompto had been blessed with the perfect shade of chocobo blonde hair that he styled in a way that, intentionally or not, reminded Ferox of the giant birds’ feathers. The kid tapped his foot on the ground as he scribbled things down. Occasionally he chewed the end of his pencil, glaring at the paper. His freckled nose scrunched when he thought too hard. Bright blue eyes kept flicking up to Ferox before darting away. 

_He’s about as nervous as a wild chocobo chick,_ Ferox thought idly. Did the Prince never have bodyguards around him? His eyes drifted over to the spiky black head. 

Cold, aloof…Noctis must have been a cat in a past life. He seemed unconcerned with Nyx and Ferox watching him, or he was just used to it. He had terrible posture as he worked on whatever assignment he had. Ferox frowned. Did Lucians not care about etiquette? His mother would’ve had a stroke if he tried that… 

Ignis cleaned closer to Ferox, picking up some of the random garbage. Did the Prince have parties or was that from a binge night? Ferox stepped aside for the Chamberlain. 

Ignis was the more interesting of the trio, in Ferox’s opinion. He had a subtle kind of grace, one that would’ve been easily overlooked when standing next to either of the teens. And…he had piercing green eyes that sorta reminded Ferox of his mother…same hard glint, the look of judging…or maybe that was just his imagination. 

Ferox darted his eyes over towards him. He found the Chamberlain doing the same. Right…he was probably suspicious. How much information were Ignis and…what’s his face…uh…Clarus’s son…shit it was the name of a flower. 

Ferox scrunched his nose in thought. He ran down the list of every flower he had memorized (which was a lot mind you). The daughter was…Iris? Or was it Poppy? Lily? Fuck…Why couldn’t he ever remember names? Especially the names of people who most likely hate him? 

While Ferox was busy playing match the flower, Ignis had crept nearer. It wasn’t until he spoke that Ferox noted the man was far too close for his comfort (and cover). “That is a beautiful necklace.” 

Ferox jumped, hand flying to cover the pendant. His heart fluttered and not in a good way. He looked at the man then at his hand, words becoming a jumble of syllables in his head. _Did Ignis recognize the flower?_ He worried. 

Inside of a small resin orb lay a Sylleblossom, perfectly frozen in time and suspended between a twisted silvery-blue bail. Ferox never let the silver chain go from his neck. It was as much of a comfort as a habit by now. 

Problem was…Sylleblossoms were not only rare and held significant meaning, but ordinary folk weren’t really allowed to have them. They were royal flowers for lack of a better term. The Nox Fleurets could give them away, sure, but normally as gifts to nobles. They weren’t something you found in a souvenir shop that’s for sure. 

“Uh…thanks?” Ferox replied unsteadily. Ignis’s eyes flickered up to Ferox’s mask. 

“Ugh! Why is this so hard?!” Prompto exclaimed. Ferox could’ve kissed the chocobo blond. Ignis’s head snapped over to the table. The loudness must have set off a mothering instinct. 

“Why is what so hard? Ignis asked calmly. Ferox sighed to himself. Thank Shiva…His thumb rubbed absently against the smooth glass. His tattoo gave a familiar jolt like someone shocked him. A warm tingle ran up his arm. He let go. No need to freak everyone out with a glowing hand…he was weird enough with the hood. 

“Dude…” Prompto whispered as he stopped pretending to study after a few minutes, “are they just going to stand there all night?” Ferox caught Nyx smirk. Nobles had this innate ability to ignore the presence of the Glaive. Normal people apparently didn’t. 

Noctis barely looked up. “Just ignore them, Prom. They’re just like statues anyway.” Ferox narrowed his eyes at the back of his skull. What’s that supposed to mean? That they should be treated like statues? Or that they act like statues? “All work, no personality.” 

_You’re as prickly as a cactuar, aren’t you?_ Ferox frowned. He was pretty sure the Prince forgot that one of the statues was directly behind him, or he thought his voice was low enough not to be heard. Still, that insult stung. 

“I resent that statement, Prince.” Ferox muttered under his breath. “I happen to be a very charming individual.” Why couldn’t his mouth ever not open? Did he have a defective filter or something? Lack of self-control? Did a terrible stifled childhood lead him to be rebellious later in life? Ah things to ask a psychologist one day! 

“Fero,” Nyx warned, shooting a pointed look at him. Right…they weren’t suppose to talk to charges. Just stand there and look pretty. 

Noctis slowly turned to look at Ferox, though, a skeptical look on his face. “Really? Cause this whole time you’ve done nothing but stand there.” 

Ferox crossed his arms, “I’m on guard duty.” Nyx sighed in exasperation. 

“So?” 

Oh how naïve could he be? Didn’t he know that the help were always looked down on? Or ignored if they were lucky? “So most nobles prefer when the Glaive are nothing more than gargoyles: intimidating and ultimately silent.” They liked to forget that each uniform held a person; they liked to forget that the uniform signified the endless war. Funny how they played at peace. 

The Prince seemed to think about that for a moment. “Even in the Citadel, all I ever see you guys do is run around or train.” His face was…unreadable. Ferox frowned for a moment. He hated people he couldn’t read, made it harder to know what to say and how to say it… 

“You’ll forgive us if we have better things to do than make small talk,” Ferox threw back. Prompto’s eyebrows shot up at the sarcasm. Noctis’s lips twitched slightly. 

“Are you even allowed to back talk the Prince?” Prompto laughed. 

Ferox snorted quietly, “What are they going to do? Fire me?” Actually…that was a possibility. One Ferox contemplated a lot. He was really surprised he hadn’t been fired yet…Six knows he had a lot of fuck ups to justify it. Most of them involved disobeying a direct order. What could he say? He was raised to lead, not follow. 

“No, but they’ll give you gate duty again,” Nyx piped up, apparently figuring he couldn’t stop this now. Ferox groaned at the mention. Every Glaive hated gate duty. Most gate guards hated them, thinking they didn’t need the Glaive around, the city was at peace. Ferox knew personally they hated Imperials and would’ve loved to beat the shit out of him. Also one of them used to bully Ferox in high school, so there was that too. 

“So you both can talk,” Noctis jabbed. 

“Careful, Ferox has a wickedly sharp tongue, Prince…I think he was raised by sabertusks to be honest.” Nyx chuckled. “You’ll be wishing he kept his mouth shut by the end of the night.” 

_Well…you aren’t wrong, Nyx,_ Ferox thought with a smirk. The Imperial Court was rather like a pack of rabid sabertusks. Trying to rule over the noble houses was about as productive as herding sabertusks too. And he had often been told to shut up…he might be nervous as hell around people, but that just made his defective filter malfunction even more. 

“Now, now, Nyx,” Ferox tsked his tongue, “Don’t be telling the Prince lies about me.” He put a hand on his hip, knowing Nyx would picture his haughty look perfectly. The two friends looked back and forth between them, as though trying to puzzle something out. 

“Seriously though,” Prompto shook his head a minute later, “are you guys just going to stand all night? There are couches you know.” Nyx snorted while Ferox could only sigh. The kid’s eyes widened. “What?” 

“Sure we could sit,” Ferox started with a sarcastically cheery tone, “and when someone kicks in the door with a gun, we’ll have a slower reaction time than if we stand.” 

The kid’s face paled. He gulped. Ferox cocked an eyebrow. Did he just realize that having two bodyguards meant danger? Or was he just imagining the scenario? He doubted the kid had seen much violence in his lifetime. 

“Y-you don’t think…think that would actually happen…do you?” Aw, he was kinda cute when he stuttered…he really reminded Ferox of a Chocobo now… 

“We’re just here as a precaution,” Nyx cut in. “We don’t actually think there’s going to be any trouble.” His eyes flicked up to Ferox. Their look said: don’t fuck it up. 

Right…orders were orders. The King didn’t want Noctis knowing just how much danger he was actually in unless it became extremely necessary. Like: someone just took off your arm necessary. Which…in Ferox’s opinion would be too little too late, but hey don’t question the King. 

“Yeah, we’re just here because the King is a worried father.” Ferox made his mouth smile. He was thankful the mask covered his eyes so they couldn’t see how the soft and charming smile didn’t reach his cold eyes. 

_This is three shades of wrong_ , he thought. He could understand wanting the kid to have a normal life, but…he couldn’t help but remember being thrown into a world he knew nothing about, one so completely different than the one he knew…His fingers rubbed at the orb around his neck. 

Noctis sighed, frowning like he hated this idea too. He kinda looked sad? Ferox furrowed his eyebrows. Why would he be sad? 

“I told him you guys would have better things to do,” the Prince’s voice was quiet, like he didn’t want to be heard. So at least he understood what the Glaive did beyond stand guard for fancy parties or run around the Citadel. 

Still, Ferox suddenly saw a much younger version of himself. How many times had he looked like that? Like he knew his very existence was a burden on someone and he couldn’t do anything about it? 

Ferox’s mouth was open before he could think. “Nah.” 

The Prince looked over at him. “What?” 

“Nah.” Ferox shrugged. “Today was just a day off and after that…what training?” He looked over to Nyx. He got a smirk before Nyx joined in. 

“I think it was our turn to train the newbies actually.” Nyx rubbed the back of his neck with a grimace. Ferox shuddered for extra effect. “So honestly, Your Highness, guarding you is a blessing.” 

Noctis looked at them both, like that was a complete opposite of what he thought they felt. Granted, it was a white lie. Escort duty, guard duty, and gate duty were three of the worst missions for any Glaive. Mostly because they were used to front line fights, not…babysitting. 

Still, Ferox thought of how many times he had felt his life was nothing more than a hassle? How many times had he thought it would be better to take that burden away? He had lost count and the tattoos on the inside of his forearms masked the tallies. 

And he couldn’t let someone else fall into that pattern. 

***** 

Two hours in and Ferox wanted to bang his head against the wall. Or jump out the large glass windows. At that point, he wasn’t going to be picky. 

He glared at his reflection as it marred his view of the Insomnian night skyline. All the lights blazed like little stars from up there. The streets shone brightly, rivers of light cutting through the dark. 

_Pretty_ , he thought idly. Also incredibly boring. So far all that had happened was the two boys did homework, Ignis cleaned and then started cooking while the boys moved to the couch and tv. Right now they were goofing off on their phones. Prompto kept looking at Nyx and Ferox any time they moved, like he expected them to start fighting random baddies each time. Noctis didn’t say much after their initial chat. Ferox got the feeling he didn’t like meeting new people either. 

Ferox walked a little bit down the wall of windows. He tried to work some of the stiffness out. He wasn’t a stranger to long periods of standing, but Six this was painful. His calves shook slightly when he put all his weight on one leg or the other, like he was made from jelly. His right hand constantly twitched from tension and he was slowly going mad. 

The Prince had this terrible ticking clock somewhere in the kitchen area. Ferox was pretty sure he was going to be having nightmares with it ticking loudly in his ears. He should not ever be acutely aware of the passing of time. Ever. For any reason. It was like high school all over again. 

“So…” Noctis’s voice cut through the silence. “I’ve never actually had bodyguards who weren’t Gladio—” 

The nickname barely left the Prince’s mouth before Ferox’s earlier conundrum solved itself. “Gladiolus! That was the name!” Ferox mumbled, not too quietly, to himself. Everyone looked at him. He could only duck his head and look at his boots. 

“How can you manage to forget the Prince’s Shield’s name?” Nyx asked with a laugh. 

Ferox could only shrug. “I remembered it was a flower, at least.” When Nyx just cocked an eyebrow, Ferox took a more defensive tone. “Not like I’ve ever met the guy.” He also didn’t have high hopes of this Amicitia liking him either… 

“You are horrible with names, Fero.” Nyx shook his head before looking at the Prince. “You’ve never had an escort before?” 

Noctis blinked before shaking his head. “Not really? A team for a drive or something, but not two guys standing around in my living room.” 

Ferox furrowed his eyebrows. Lucians were weird. Who would let the heir just walk around? Sure Gladiolus would be there…usually, but he was one guy. What was he supposed to do in an ambush? 

Of course, Ferox had the tightest security around him at all times, and yet he was the fugitive…so which system worked better apparently? 

“Do you guys get to swap out with another team or…?” Noctis looked between the two. Slowly they shook their heads. 

“We’re it.” Nyx stated. He gave a little shrug like it was no big deal, but the Prince and his friend both looked surprised. 

“Wait,” Prompto started, “you guys are going to stand guard all night and all day? No shifts or breaks?” Ferox frowned. Yeah that sounded terrible. But it was a much tighter operation when only one team did escorts. Limited how many people knew details on the target and halved the potential for sabotage…plus if something did go wrong, much simpler to investigate. 

“Well, we’ll take breaks…sorta.” Ferox mumbled. “That’s why there are two of us.” Mostly the breaks were just for nature’s calling or to do a water run or a food run…though most of that was probably going to be done while the Prince was at school, under the watchful eye of about six teams. 

“What about sleeping?” 

Nyx again shrugged. “One sleeps while the other watches, halfway through we switch.” 

Prompto’s eyes widened. “That’s…not a lot of sleep.” Understatement of the century much? 

“We’re trained for this kind of thing.” 

“Plus…” Ferox added with a wry grin, “give me a steady supply of coffee and I can stay awake indefinitely.” It helped that he always had trouble sleeping. Bad dreams that replayed over and over. Always the same one too. Started when he was a teenager and first came to the city. Cor had taken him to some sort of doctor who gave him pills meant to help him stay asleep, but Ferox hated those. They didn’t get rid of the dreams, just made him suffer through them. 

So needless to say, Ferox didn’t sleep much anyway and when he did it was usually fitful and extremely light. 

Nyx sighed lightly. “I’ve told you to cut back on that cr-stuff.” Nice professional save. 

“Yeah…no thanks, I’d rather be able to function early in the morning. Or would you like to work with Zombie Ferox?” 

“Frankly, I can’t tell the difference.” Nyx gave his charming smile that Ferox hated. No man has the right to be that cute and pretty at the same time. Ferox wanted to give a vulgar gesture but refrained with the children in the room. 

“What about eating?” Noctis glanced behind him at Ignis who was cutting something up on the counter. 

Before he could even offer food, Ferox cut in. “You don’t need to worry about us, Prince—uh Your Highness,” he corrected with a slight wince. “These uniforms have more pockets then you would think…mine’s mostly filled with granola bars.” 

Nyx snorted. “Crowe raided your candy stash finally?” 

Ferox glared at him. “Her last…” His eyes darted over to the two on the couch. Yeah…let’s not air someone else’s dirty laundry and out them in front of strangers. “Well you know. She was upset so Lib and I sacrificed our stashes.” 

Nyx cocked an eyebrow. “And she refused to buy you guys more candy?” 

“Yes.” Ferox pouted slightly. He believed Crowe was trying to stave off diabetes or something by her switch. Though it could be that she just kept all the candy to herself. Whatever the case may be, Ferox had to switch to granola snacks in his jacket for the long missions. 

“Please tell me you aren’t going to be eating granola for your meals,” Ignis piped in. The other two chuckled under their breaths while the Glaives shared a look. That…was definitely a threatening tone underneath the concern. Ferox glanced over at the Chamberlain. His back was still turned, but his shoulders were a lot more tense than before. 

“No?” Ferox said, unsure of what the correct answer was. 

Nyx scratched the back of his neck absently. “I’ll go get us some food a little later once you all are settled down.” 

Ignis glanced over his shoulder. “I do hope you don’t plan on eating fast food every night?” he scoffed like the very idea appalled him. Ferox suddenly felt like he was talking to his mother-incarnate…like no matter what he said, it’d be taken out of context and twisted around. 

“I hope to Ramuh not,” Ferox grumbled, “that shit ruins my complexion.” Nyx shook his head. 

Ignis turned around fully this time. “I could—” Ferox could hear the offer before it was uttered. 

“No, no need, Chamberlain Sir,” he interrupted. “Pay us little mind.” Sweet of him to think of the lowly Glaives, though. 

“We are here to protect the Prince, not create any extra trouble,” Nyx smoothed over. He smiled at the three for a moment. “Nice of you to offer, but we’ll have to decline, protocols and all.” 

“There are protocols against eating dinner?” Noctis scoffed. 

“No,” Ferox gave a so-so gesture. “But there are protocols against accepting food from charges.” It mostly pertained to parties with lots of guests. 

“Why?” Wow…he seriously knew nothing about politics or military did he? Was this considered a military or political operation though? Before he could derail himself, Ferox shook his head. 

“Various safety measures, Your Highness,” Ferox mumbled quietly. Don’t give him any ideas right? 

Noctis sighed loudly, looking at his phone. He tapped a few buttons before looking back up at him. “That’s vague.” He grumbled. Ferox watched the dark blue eyes dart between him and Nyx, trying to find something…Ferox narrowed his eyes slightly. He could almost see the wheels turning in his head. A sharp glint hid behind the general lack of care the Prince had in his eyes. The kid was trying to read them? Was he watching for body cues? Or something else? 

“It’d bore you, Your Highness,” Nyx said blandly when Ferox didn’t answer. Ferox blinked away from his studying the Prince. 

“Shiva knows it did me,” he said under his breath. 

Noctis narrowed his eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to poison you, so why can’t you guys accept food from charges?” Neither of the Glaives said a word. The Prince kept looking back and forth at them as their lips pressed into a line. “You guys seriously think I’m going to poison you?” 

_You? Probably not. Your Chamberlain? The possibility is high,_ Ferox thought with a grin. Outwardly he gave a charming smile he saved for placating wounded egos. “Of course not, Your Highness.” His voice was terribly dry and riddled with sarcasm. 

“Fero.” Nyx whispered sharply. As though Ferox needed a reminder his normal personality needed toned down. Had he mentioned he hated escort duty? He was used to dealing with nobility from a prince’s stand point; to him Noctis was on equal or lower standing. 

Yet… “Right…I apologize, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect. It was a mere joke is all.” Even Nyx cocked an eyebrow at his flat and yet soothing tone. Hey he could sometimes play at politeness. It left a foul taste in his mouth though. A sort of fake politeness usually reserved for people you couldn’t stand. Which for Ferox meant almost the entire human kind…with very few exceptions. “With all due respect, it is not that we think you will poison us, rather that someone might to poison us through you.” Ferox continued without missing a beat. “It is merely a precaution so we might better protect you.” 

Nyx stared at him like he grew another head. Then his eyes narrowed, trying to find something suspicious in how Ferox stood. Was it really that weird when Ferox tried to be subservient? 

“So, you guys are just going to eat super market dinners, sleep in cars, and stand around my living room for a week?” Noctis asked. His tone said he was uncomfortable with the idea. Why, Ferox could not fathom. He gathered that the Shield and the Chamberlain were Noctis’s friends and all, but wasn’t there a few times where they had to be his servants first? 

“Yes,” Both Nyx and Ferox answered. 

“This day just keeps getting better and better…” Noctis grumbled under his breath. 

_Same,_ Ferox thought with a bitter smile. _Just...Same_. 

***** 

While the trio sat down at the table to eat what looked to be better food than Ferox got as a child (where the hell did Ignis learn to cook?), Nyx made his way over to Ferox’s side. Ferox glared at the food, cursing it and its delicious smell. 

Wait. When did he last eat? Did he even eat today? He furrowed his brow, dropping his eyes to the floor. A tap on his shoulder jolted him away from trying to walk backwards through his day. 

“Hungry yet?” Before Ferox could answer, his stomach gave a horrendous grumble. His cheeks heated a little. Stupid bodily functions. Nyx laughed quietly. “I’ll take that as my answer.” 

“Is there any place still open around here?” Ferox asked quietly. “Aside from the Crow’s Nest. I’m not eating there.” He had been…convinced (‘forced’ more like) to eat there before. It was nothing but grease-coated heart attacks on a platter. They even had it in a fizzy liquid form. Plus…Ferox hated fish, which was apparently a staple in the Lucian diet. 

“I figured I’d go to the store rather than a diner. Less odd looks.” Nyx shrugged. Ferox almost snorted at the thought that Nyx the Poster Boy of the Glaive got shy about people wondering why he was in a diner late at night ordering take-out. Though, that was the main reason why he didn’t like going out to eat…too many stares. 

“Just a salad I guess. Just no—” 

“Mushrooms or fish, I got it.” Nyx rolled his eyes. “How you can eat a salad every day is beyond me.” 

“How you can eat those meat skewer things is a mystery to me.” Ferox threw back. He wasn’t vegetarian (quite the opposite actually). He just found salad to be the safer bet than anything cooked in the market… 

“One day I’ll convince you to let me cook you real Galahdian skewers.” 

“And one day I’ll convince you to date me.” Nyx snorted as he tried not to laugh. Ferox cocked an eyebrow, keeping his own amusement off his face. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Only in your dreams, Fero.” 

***** 

The rest of the night passed in relatively awkward silence. Noctis tried very hard to forget the two shadows creeping about the room. Prompto opted to crash in his spare bedroom, rather than walk home, which helped he guessed. Ignis said goodnight shortly after dinner and Noctis really didn’t like the idea of being alone with two strangers watching over him. 

He shook his head, rolling his shoulders. Nothing he could do about it, he supposed. He focused on his phone for a minute. King’s Knight lit up his screen. He supposed he could get in a few more rounds of it…he should have a few things to harvest too. 

He glanced up at the sound of heavy boots moving across his floor. The Glaives didn’t make a lot of noise when they moved; it was just that quiet. He wondered what they were thinking about. How boring this job was? Why did they get stuck doing this? 

Seriously, what was his dad thinking? He never needed an armed escort before. Gladio counted for at least three guys after all. And why send the Glaive? Weren’t they more of skirmishers? Or something? He honestly didn’t know a lot about the Glaive aside from the fact that they kept to themselves in the Citadel. 

Yet…he could’ve sworn he knew the one with the hood. Something about his voice rung a tiny bell in the back of Noctis’s head. Damn if he could place it though. All night he was trying to think of where he could’ve met him, and got nothing. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he remembered his name five minutes after they were introduced. 

But it was bugging Noctis. Among many other things. Most of which revolved around this whole situation. You never know how awkward it is to have two guys paid to watch you until it happens. 

Yeah, Gladio sometimes had to do a similar job when Noctis was out, but…it was less awkward. Maybe he didn’t think much of Gladio being around since he was around a lot. Plus Gladio was a friend so it wasn’t…well it was weird when you thought about it no matter what, but Noctis was used to him guarding. 

These two? He glanced up just as the hooded one stretched. The chainmail on his uniform clinked just like it did on fantasy movies too. And what’s with the feathers? Did Glaives get to personalize their uniforms? The other one had coeurl fur and some sort of purple fabric on his… 

These two were just weird, Noctis concluded. They’d joke with each other, but it was all business with him…though they weren’t complete robots he guessed. He remembered the hooded one’s sarcasm earlier. At least someone didn’t think of him as the Prince first. 

His phone vibrated in his hand, making him jump. A text message popped up on his screen from Prompto. Noctis furrowed his eyebrows. Why couldn’t he… 

Prompto: _ur staring @ him_ it read. Noctis blinked, then his cheeks slightly heated. He glared at his friend’s teasing look. 

He quickly tapped out his answer. _I think I know him_. 

Prompto: _Uh-huh. That why u were lookin @ his ass?_

Noctis: _No! Shut up_

Prompto began giggling before Noctis grabbed a pillow and smacked his face. When he didn’t stop laughing (and actually got loud enough for the Glaives to look over at them), Noctis pinned him down with the pillow over his face. 

“Should we stop the Prince from murdering his friend?” The hooded Glaive asked quietly. Noctis’s ears burned. Prompto managed to push him off to the floor, laughing. He grabbed his own pillow to try to defend himself. 

“Are we supposed to…is this considered assault against the Prince?” The other Glaive mumbled. 

“I don’t know what the protocol for pillow fights are to be honest…” 

***** 

“Night, asshole,” Noctis mumbled as he passed Prompto on his way to his room. His friend grinned at him. 

“Night!” 

Once Noctis shut his door, he leaned against it with a sigh. All his tension was back. And he had six more days of this! He didn’t think he would ever get used to having Glaives in his house. 

The thought of the two he could hear running checks on the apartment brought his other problem to mind. He blushed hard. No, he definitely wasn’t looking at that man’s ass. At all. He was only wondering about the uniform and where he knew him from. Leave it to Prompto to think dirty… 

It wasn’t like Noctis was closeted or anything. Well publicly he supposed he was, that wasn’t the kind of thing a Prince could be open about or so he figured. Most people assumed he’d be married off to a nice noblewoman since he showed no interest in dating. Frankly, Noctis thought he’d be put in an arranged marriage, so there wasn’t much point in expressing his preferences. 

He shook his head. Why was he getting so flustered over a stranger? Maybe it was because he kinda didn’t want any rumors going around the city? Sure, let’s go with that. No need to cause more drama this week. His birthday was causing enough. 

Noctis went through his normal motions for bed. While he was brushing his teeth, he heard his alarm system activate and the front door close. So they were serious about leaving him be for the night. He kinda thought they had to watch him all night or at least one of them would be on his couch…Seemed more comfortable than his dad’s car anyway. Probably safer too. What could they do if an intruder broke in anyway? 

Noctis spit into the sink before continuing to scrub at his teeth. He glared at the mirror. Why did he have to have bodyguards? That ran on repeat through his head. He tried to think of any weird things beyond the normal weirdness of his birthday. His school had gone into lockdown twice this week, but the first one was a test and the second one a malfunction…or so they were told. He was seeing new people at the Citadel, beyond having a switch in the normal guards. That wasn’t really weird since he didn’t live there anymore. 

He frowned at his reflection. “What the hell is going on?” He asked himself. Of course the mirror didn’t offer any answers. He sighed. He supposed he could go ask his dad…if he could ever find a time. Seemed most the time he saw his father was in the boring ass meetings Ignis dragged him to on weekends. 

Ignis…Noctis’s eyes widened. He quickly rinsed his mouth and darted to his bed. He glanced briefly at the clock. Only 9… 

Noctis: _Specs…_  
_Txt me when you get this_  


Noctis tossed his phone on his bed. Ignis should be home by now…unless he once again got stuck in a late night meeting or had to go run errands…Yeah he was probably stuck in a meeting. Seemed to be the thing around big events. Sometimes he wondered when Ignis slept. 

He looked around his room for a second. Clothes still littered his floor, comics and magazines covered his desk, but at least he had a stack of textbooks near it this time. Luna’s journal sat on top of the pile. He should really get around to replying… 

His eyes drifted to the window. The moon hung brightly in the sky. Its light shone down on the plant in his window. It was sorta like a bonsai tree with a thick trunk-like stem, but with a large flower on top rather than bushy leaves. The pale orange rimmed with red of the petals seemed to glow like fire sometimes. 

He walked over to it. He checked the soil to make sure it was still damp. He couldn’t remember who gave it to him, or even the flower’s name, but he got it after his accident. When he thought about it long enough, he got the image of pale eyes looking down at him with a dead expression. He vaguely remembered being told a story about the flower and the Astrals, but that too was lost in his head. 

Noctis was just amazed he managed to keep the thing alive all these years. Either he had a green thumb (more like Ignis had the green thumb) or the plant was a hardy one. Probably the latter. He didn’t think it came from Lucis since none of the gardeners at the Citadel knew what it was. 

His phone beeped him out of his thoughts. He all but jumped into his bed and snatched his phone up. 

Ignis: _Are you still up?_  
_Is something wrong, Noct?_  


Noctis rolled his eyes. Leave it to Specs to worry over a text message. And what did he mean ‘are you still up?’ who did he think he was talking to? It was only 9:10! 

Noctis: _Yeah I’m up & nothings wrong_

Ignis: _Shocking_

Noctis shot off a few choice emojis at the sarcasm. Funny how he could almost hear Ignis’s eyes roll. His phone beeped again. 

Ignis: _If nothing’s the matter, then what are you doing up?_

He bit his lip. He tapped out a few drafts, each one getting deleted. He thought he could just ask Ignis what was going on, but…what if Ignis knew exactly what was going on and hadn’t told him? He didn’t think Iggy would do that, at least not on his own accord—Ignis would be so proud to hear his fancy words right now. 

Noctis gave himself a wry grin before focusing back on his phone. Maybe he could ease into it? Test the waters? Seemed the safer route. And maybe the one would lead into the other. 

Ignis: _Noct?_ popped up on his screen. 

Noctis: _Is it just me or is something up?_

A minute later. Ignis: _What do you mean?_  
_Specifically_  


Noctis: _Well…_  
_That Glaive for starters. The hooded one_  


There…that was a problem, something bothering Noctis. Connected to the real issue, but not all of it. See? He could be vague and dodgey too. 

Ignis: _I agree; he is a rather odd one_

Who uses a semicolon in a text message? Noctis frown at the screen for a second. Ignis apparently. 

Noctis: _I think we’ve met before…_  
_I just can’t remember where_  


Ignis: _Perhaps you’ve seen him around the Citadel before?_

True…but then again he couldn’t remember seeing a lot of Glaives and his uniform would stand out. The other one…Nyx, he could remember bumping into him a few times on his way to train with Gladio. 

Noctis: _No…I’ve seen Nyx a few times I think. Never seen the other one…uh…_

Ignis: _Ferox Surname-Not-Important_

Noctis: _Right thnx_  
_Would’ve recognized the uniform_  


Ignis: _He is rather flashy, isn’t he?_

Noctis smirked at his phone. At least someone else thought so too. 

Ignis: _What is it about him that seems familiar, if I might ask?_

Noctis: _His voice mostly_

It was a rather odd tone/accent to hear around the city. Not so different from everyone else’s sure, but something about how he pronounced things was just slightly off. Reminded him of Luna’s and Ignis’s accent only not as pronounced. 

Ignis: _Ah, I cannot say I’ve heard him around the Citadel either_  
_And sadly, Noct, Gladio and I were not briefed on who would be guarding you_  


Noctis sighed. Well there’s a dead end if he ever saw one. 

Ignis: _However…_  
_It would be well within your rights to request their files from the Marshal_  


He blinked at the words. Oh is that all he has to do? Just go into the Marshal’s office and ask for his bodyguards’ files? Never mind the fact that Cor scared the hell out of Noctis. He was 99% sure Cor was his family’s hit man and that there were ten dead bodies buried behind the Immortal’s house. At least that was the rumor in school. 

Noctis: _Can’t you do it?????_  
_I mean they have to shadow me right?_  
_so it’d b weird to request their files in front of them right?_

He waited a few minutes, praying to the Six that Ignis wouldn’t turn his half-baked excuse on him. He was good about that. 

Noctis: _Please Iggy?_

Ignis: _Very well_

Noctis pumped his arm in victory as he climbed into bed properly. He could almost sense Ignis’s sigh of resignation from those two little words. 

Noctis: _You sighed with resignation didn’t you?_

Ignis: _Good Night, Noct_

Noctis: _You totally did_

***** 

Ferox yawned as he stretched. His heels clinked against the brick as he kicked his feet over the edge of the roof. The horizon began to lighten, chasing away the stars. 

He rolled his shoulders a few times. Staking out the roof of a nearby building was probably the least fun part of total escort missions. Stiff muscles, boredom, and a splitting headache were all common aliments of these missions. All of which, Ferox could feel coming on. 

Granted, he did like the silence. Well, relative silence. Insomnia lived up to its namesake: it never slept. But this was in a nicer part of town than where he usually stayed awake in. Not nearly as many loud cars shooting air out their exhaust pipes, or hooligans shouting obscenities into the night. Certainly no loud arguments between lovers either. Kinda boring, to be honest, but then again at least he didn’t have to listen to more drunk rants about immigrants or the Crown. 

He could just sit and think while looking up at the stars…what few stars he could see anyway. One terrible thing about cities was the lack of stars. The Tenebraen Palace had the best views, far away from the city as it was, though having slept out under those lights he couldn’t say a haven could be beat. 

Ferox would’ve loved to be on a hunting mission at that moment, not guarding the Prince. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the Prince; the kid seemed…distant…kinda prickly like a cactuar actually. Weird like one too. But hey, Ferox couldn’t throw stones since he wasn’t the most personable person ever. 

Ferox bit his lip in thought. His heels stilled as his eyes narrowed at the window he was supposed to be watching. In truth, he was more occupied with his thoughts, the outside world just faded away. The breeze brought smells of cars and chimneys. It played with the feathers on his uniform. 

Nah, it wasn’t the Prince that was the problem. It was the mission itself. It just didn’t make sense. What was so suspicious about this situation that the King wanted the Glaive, not the Guard, to protect his son? Was there something they weren’t being told? Like maybe something that made the Guard come under suspicion? 

He shook his head against the thought. Cor would never stand for that sort of thing. Hell, he was pretty sure the Marshal would personally investigate even the slightest grumblings about the King and then personally kick the dissenters out…literally. Guy was seriously loyal to his King. 

So…what was going on? 

“You’re smacking your lips again,” Nyx’s voice made Ferox jump in his skin. His heart skipped up his throat. 

“Ramuh above, what the hell, Nyx? Don’t be a cat and sneak up on me like that. I’ll freeze your ass,” Ferox growled, pressing a hand to his chest. Nyx smirked. 

“Maybe if you had been on guard, you’d’ve noticed me coming up the fire escape.” Ferox pouted slightly. Touché. Nyx joined him on the ledge. They exchanged a brief relay of events that Ferox had noted…which wasn’t a lot. He was pretty sure someone in the building had a secret lover or took someone home from a bar, but that was about as interesting as the night got. 

They lapsed into silence for a while. “Kinda weird just being stationary in the city again,” Ferox mumbled to himself. 

Nyx’s eyes glanced at him. “Yeah haven’t had a day off in what? A couple months?” Something usually came up that prevented them from enjoying a full day off. Well…prevented Ferox. He was pretty sure Nyx would work 24/7 if it was legal. 

“Three I think. Not since before that last hunting detail.”

“Which one? The griffon or the malboro?” 

Ferox wrinkled his nose, “The malboro.” He hated those things. Gross octopus plants that stunk to high heaven. It took him about five washes and some rather creative uses for his herbal essences before his clothes finally let go of malboro and swamp water. 

Nyx laughed. “Right, you and Aurora got placed on that one.” He shook his head. “Why does she like those things?” Ferox frowned. Bahamut only knew why that woman loved malboros. Even had a tattoo sleeve of one on her left arm. 

“I like plants and all, but those things as gross as they come.” He gave a shudder. “She’s lucky I’m able to cure its poison.” 

“Ah yes, whatever would we do without our anti-social healer?” Nyx snorted. Ferox stuck his tongue out but kept a smirk. You’d think Ferox wouldn’t be a designated healer on missions what with his disdain for people and not caring about life in general. Yet…for some reason he was just really good at healing and barriers. Could even cast Holy. 

His right hand gave a twitch. Warmth traveled up his fingers at the thought of ‘white’ magic. He could almost remember the first time it did that. Almost. That memory seemed eons ago, blurred and hazy as though erased by the nightmares that came after it. He just remembered a young Lunafreya’s hand holding his and a warm smile spreading across her lips as she spoke. 

Ferox shook his head from the nostalgia. “You’d probably all die or get poisoned or remain petrified for all eternity,” he joked with a smug smirk. 

Nyx chuckled to himself. “Never change, Fero.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” 

“And were you planning on waking me up anytime soon?” Nyx glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. Ferox could almost sense the protective brother lecture coming on. He never had siblings, but Nyx and Libertus fostered anybody. So he could see why siblings could get annoying. 

Ferox popped his lips a few times. The look of someone getting caught written all over his face. Nyx just stared him down, until he had to answer before the knowing disappointment gnawed his flesh from his bones. “In a little bit…I-I just…got caught up in my own thoughts…is all…” His voice turned to a whisper at the end. 

“You can’t live off caffeine you know,” Nyx sighed. “You gotta sleep sometime; otherwise you’re goin’ to be—” 

“I know, I know,” Ferox snapped. “I need sleep to do my job, blah, blah, blah. You and Cor never shut up about it.” 

“Because you never listen.” Nyx shot back. Ferox glared at him, hoping he’d see frostbite coming over Nyx’s skin. Nyx returned the ice with lightning, a pointed stare designed to shock the system with concern and worry hidden under level-headedness. Ferox hated glaring contests with him. No one should be able to utterly disarm people like that. 

Ferox sighed loudly, turning his attention back to the apartment building. “It’s not like I enjoy not getting to sleep, you know.” 

“I know. You just have an avoidance issue, right?” Nyx joked. It gave Ferox a tiny smirk that disappeared a second later. “Look, Fero, you’re supposedly an adult,” he paused long enough for Ferox to give an insulted look, “so it’s your choice if you don’t want help. But I seriously think you should consider Luche’s idea.” 

Ferox snorted. That idea was to talk to a psychologist that was employed by the Crownsguard. They were trained to deal with all sorts of trauma relating to soldiers. Luche was trying to get most of the “veterans” to at least try it along with regular checkups. Ferox was 99% sure the reason was because most of them came to work sick, which created a plague in the barracks and unfortunately magiteks can’t get sick so they couldn’t even suggest to use the common cold as a bioweapon. 

“I’ll consider it,” Ferox grumbled, “when you consider talking to someone about your flashbacks.” Nyx narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth before closing it again. “Not so fun is it, Hero?” 

Nyx grumbled something under his breath before sighing. “Touché.” He sighed and that was the last sound to surround them as they waited for the sun to rise. 

***** 

“So…what’s on the agenda today?” Ferox asked quietly. He watched as Ignis entered the apartment. He had grocery bags in his arms from the look of it. 

Nyx and Ferox had opted to stand guard on the roof as the Prince got ready for school. They weren’t in the way and no need to have another awkward repeat of the night before. And…Ferox was pretty sure he looked like hell warmed over. 

Nyx stretched beside him. A few cracks ran down his spine. “Ouch…” he grumbled. 

“Old age catching up to you?” Ferox joked drily. He got a quick smack against his shoulder. “Hey, don’t abuse your junior!” 

“Junior my ass,” Nyx growled. “You’ve been in the Glaive almost as long as me.” Ferox stuck his tongue out. In truth, Nyx was only six years older than Ferox, though their years in the Glaive were almost the same. Nyx joined after Galahd was attacked…which was what? Eight, maybe nine years ago? Ferox started his training when he was 17…under Nyx. So…he really was Nyx’s junior, though the man hated to admit it. 

“Seriously, what headaches are we in for today?” Ferox chuckled. 

“Getting the Prince to school, rushing home to make ourselves human again, then get back to the school in time to pick the Prince up so he can go to his job.” Nyx counted them off on his fingers. Ferox groaned loudly. 

“We have to spend the afternoon in a diner?” He could almost feel his skin getting oily from the thought of it. Nyx clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Yep, also means you can’t wear your mask.” 

_Fuck me,_ Ferox thought. That meant he had to do even more makeup today… 

“What about my hood?” Ferox ran through a mental checklist of everything he had in his bathroom. He had enough makeup to last an entire fashion season (or so Crowe always joked), but he didn’t think he had any temporary hair dye. He didn’t like using it to begin with, plus he hardly went anywhere without his hood anymore. People don’t question in-uniform Glaives after all. 

Nyx shrugged, “You can just say it’s a personal matter; they can’t stop you so long as you have your face uncovered. If they don’t like it, we’ll call the Marshal up and have him explain it.” 

Ferox frowned. _Great, I have to get Cor to save my hide again_. You wouldn’t think he’d be so opposed to it after the number of times the Marshal swooped in to help. He understood that part of Cor’s job was to keep an eye on Ferox, even if he was no longer a minor. But…he didn’t like it. It felt like he was always relying on him to get out of tough spots. 

Sometimes Ferox wondered what would happen if he just walked around town without his hood. Would it really cause mass panic? Would he be stoned to death? Of course, he knew it was really just to prevent leaks. Insomnia had cell phones, which had cameras…cameras that could upload to the internet that everyone could access…Last thing Ferox needed was some person taking a picture of him and the wrong person in Niflheim seeing it. 

So he sighed to himself. “Luckily I have eight hours to make myself presentable.” 

Nyx snorted, “Not quite, we still have to get food and give a report to the Marshal.” He turned to look (well glare really) at Ferox. “And you are sleeping for some of it.” 

Ferox glared right back. “I’m fine, not like I haven’t pulled all-nighters before. Just get me coffee.” Preferably a triple shot caffe mocha. That had enough caffeine to comatose a cactuar. 

“Yeah, you’ve pulled all nighters, but not on an escort mission before.” Ferox made a face. He had a point. He also tried not to think of the consequences of him accidently falling asleep… Noctis tripping down waxed stairs (possible, but unlikely), Noctis getting shot (unlikely), a bomb going off (highly unlikely), a bunch of daemons coming up through the floor and devouring them all (extremely unlikely)… 

Yeah…he wasn’t thinking of what could go wrong… 

“Sides aren’t pretty people like you always going on about their beauty sleep?” Nyx joked. Ferox scoffed. Nyx was about as gorgeously handsome as they came, and yet he was calling Ferox pretty like he himself did not count as “pretty people”. 

“Look in the mirror, poster boy, and tell me which one of us is the pretty boy,” Ferox threw back. Nyx snorted. 

“I’m more of the ruggedly handsome, not pretty.” Nyx winked before standing up. He walked so he was out of hitting range before saying, “You on the other hand would be mistaken for a woman nine times out of ten.” 

Ferox mock-glared daggers at his back. “Bastard.” He couldn’t be offended when he knew the statement was valid. He was often called beautiful back home…though that was more due to a language difference. There really weren’t differences between handsome and beautiful; they were just beautiful. He always found it strange to put a gender on beauty, but hey whatever. His masculinity wasn’t so feeble as to break at being androgynously pretty. 

He stood up and hurried after Nyx. “At least you admit I’m pretty.” He mumbled with a sarcastic smirk. Nyx glanced over at him. 

“I can give credit where credit is due, you know.” 

“Truly? I did not think you backwater monkeys knew what a compliment was.” 

Nyx chuckled. “Much like Imperials don’t know what modesty is?” 

“I know what modesty is, I just find it boring.” Ferox winked when Nyx looked at him. It earned him an eye roll and a head shake. At least the air wasn’t so heavy. 

“Let’s just go get our Prince to school.” Nyx tried to smooth his face back into work-mode, but one corner continued to smirk. Ferox counted that as his one success of the day. 

***** 

His door creaked as he opened it. Everything was the same as he had left it yesterday. Yet…he got the very odd feeling that something was out of place. Hard to do when there was a layer of dust surrounding everything (he kept forgetting to dust and the heater just kicked up more every morning). He couldn’t see any disturbances in it. 

Ferox shut the door behind him, looking around his room. He supposed the landlord could’ve came by to do one of those unannounced checks? If that was the case, he hoped the man brushed against one of the plants on the desk. They caused a terrible rash. 

_I’m probably just paranoid from lack of sleep,_ he thought with a shrug. He finally took off his hood. He could almost feel his hair knotting together in a static frizz. He hoped Nyx wasn’t planning on leaving for at least an hour or two… He untied his boots and kicked them off before stripping. He left his vest and coat on the bed with his pauldrons before grabbing some clean clothes to take into the bathroom with him. He dumped them on the counter before looking into the mirror. 

The same Glacian Prince stared back at him. This time, though, he had a halo of white frizz around his head. Stupid hoods. Ferox sighed as he undid his hair. The bun by this time was just a knotted mess and the braids were unravelling. How Nyx and Lib managed to go days without ever redoing their braids astonished him to no end. 

After a good fifteen minutes of cussing and combing his hair was tamed enough for a shower. Hot water? Still none. But at least the cold kept him awake well enough he remembered to scrub the makeup from his face before he stepped out. 

The knobs squeaked as he turned them off. A thump sounded outside the bathroom. Ferox frowned at the wall. _What was that? Was that from my room? Or Nyx’s?_ The walls were paper thin so it could’ve been from any number of rooms around his. His heart gave a little adrenaline boost. He strained his ears over the drips of water. He couldn’t hear anything beyond his own shallow breathing and heartbeat. _Guess I’m imagining things too?_ He wondered. His stomach knotted. 

He wrapped himself in a towel and stepped out. His eyes fell on the scissors again. He supposed he could use those if there was an intruder. Or he could just summon a gun…or a lance. Or a fireball. That’d scare off anyone real quick…also might burn down his apartment and he wasn’t too sure he could afford that. 

_Maybe it was Nyx looking to see if I was ready yet?_ It was an option. At least that thought settled his nerves some. Yeah, it was probably just Nyx checking that he didn’t pass out on the bed. He just didn’t hear the knock over the shower. 

With one panic attack averted, Ferox focused on more important matters: his hair and face. He didn’t really want to go through the pain of unknotting his hair again…which having to wear a hood all day would cause. He huffed slightly as he worked out the few tangles showering gave him. The joys of long fine hair. 

He supposed he’d have to take something out of Aurora’s book. She was this quirky little Glaive with a pale silver lavender hair color that tied her hair up in a variety of braids. She also was Imperial-blooded, though she was born in Altissia. She often tried to convince Ferox to just get a few highlights like she did and suddenly the white hair wouldn’t be a problem. Apparently white’s not okay, but silver and the various variations of hair dyes were. Lucians…were weird. 

Anyway, Ferox plaited his hair from the top of his skull down to his waist. Kept it out of his face and prevented any of it from falling into view accidentally. He put in his feathers and gold charms just out of habit. 

Now then, the fun part. He sighed again as he began rummaging through his make up bag. “Now where did I put that stupid pencil…” He muttered. 

A creak froze him in place. That…that definitely was from his room. A particular floorboard actually. His breath caught. His blood swept through his ears as he looked over at the door. Clothes rustled on the other side. If this was Nyx…he was going to kill him. 

“Babe?” sent a sharp jolt down his spine. Ferox’s eyes widened. He instantly recognized that voice…and it froze him to the spot. “You in there?” 

_What…the actual…fuck?!_ Ferox’s mind screamed. _How the hell did he even know where I lived?! Why the fuck is he even here?!_ A spiral of various curses and questions beat at his mind. 

The door handle turning snapped him out of the panic. It opened a crack. Ferox slammed his shoulder against the wood. He twisted the lock closed. 

“Aw come on, babe, don’t be like that.” 

Ferox almost wanted to rip open the door and punch the asshole. He’d have to settle for yelling through the door. “Don’t call me that. We broke up, asshole.” Ferox distinctly remembered using the words “we are done” after punching him for not stopping when Ferox clearly stated no. To which he got all sorts of slurs and curses. He didn’t think he could’ve been more clear. 

Yet on the other side of the door was the most recent of Ferox’s failed relationships: Darius Never-Gave-His-Last-Name. Good looking guy (as with most supposed ‘good guys’), tall, nice tan, dark brown hair, brown eyes, charismatic, and an asshole Ferox found out. Also apparently prone to stalker behavior. 

“What the fuck are you even doing here, Darius?!” Ferox spat. He prayed the lock on the door wasn’t just decoration as it rattled. He swallowed his heart in his throat. Now really wasn’t the time to have a panic attack… 

“I just wanted to talk! You weren’t responding to any of my texts…” Darius’s voice sounded…apologetic, sad even. “Look, babe, I’m sorry for what I said—I didn’t mean it—I just—” 

“Fuck off, Darius,” Ferox interrupted. Angry tears started to gather in his eyes. Probably scared tears too. He blinked a few times. _Dammit, Brain, why you gotta turn on the waterworks now?_ Last thing he needed was to cry (even if it was from anger) in front of this asshole. 

_Never show an enemy your weakness,_ echoed through his mind. He remembered his mother wiping away his tears as she told him that with an expression of pure ice. Every time he couldn’t take the weight of his life, every time he broke down, that dead and cold gaze came to him. 

_If your emotions are your weakness, keep them locked away in the dark_. 

Ferox grabbed for that ice. He let it wrap around him like a security blanket. His trembling stopped. He watched as the same dead look his mother taught him washed over his face. 

“Get out of my apartment, Darius,” his voice was clipped and cold as the Glacian’s winter. “Just get out.” 

“Can’t we just talk—” 

“What the hell’s going on?” Nyx’s voice was muffled by the door, but Ferox knew it right away. His body relaxed slightly at the heavy boots hitting the floor. “Who the hell are you?” 

“His boyfriend,” Darius’s voice sent an uncomfortable chill down Ferox’s spine. It wasn’t the tone of protectiveness…That was a jealous mix of possessiveness. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“From the yelling, I don’t think you get to use that title anymore.” Nyx was at the door now. “And that’s not any of your business.” He could almost feel the alpha male pheromones coming off those two. Not literally of course. That shit was just for the fanfiction floating around the internet…that Ferox did not read. At all. Ever. 

“Get. Out. Now.” Ferox sounded a lot more commanding than he felt cowering behind a door with nothing but a towel around his waist. “Or I’m calling the police.” 

A few seconds passed with no one making any sound. Then finally he heard a snort through the door. “Fine, but don’t think this is fucking over—” 

“Oh it’s over alright. Get out before I throw you out.” Somehow…Ferox kinda knew Nyx could do it, too. Apparently Darius figured it too. Ferox’s knees gave out as the door slammed shut. He slowly slid to the floor. “You okay, Fero?” Nyx’s voice was back to the protective brother tone. 

Ferox shook a little. _Please don’t be concerned for me,_ he thought. _I’m not worth it…_

“Yeah…” his voice didn’t crack thankfully. “I’m fine. Thanks for…you know.” Why was this so hard? This letting people in? This accepting help? Why was it so fucking hard? All he could think of was how he just caused a scene and dragged Nyx into it…He could’ve handled it better or maybe he should’ve just let Darius say his piece… 

No. No, no, no. That asshole did not get to make him feel guilty for not listening to him. Ferox would just have to make sure to keep the door locked and not ever let Nyx (or the others) get dragged into his drama. Again. 

“I’ll be ready in thirty minutes or so,” Ferox mumbled, trying to change the subject. Nyx snorted. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll give the Marshal a report while you’re finishing up.” 

***** 

The drive back to the school was quiet. Nyx had apparently made them lunch before he decided to play guard in Ferox's room, so there was no need to go to the store. Neither one of them wanted to talk about the behemoth in the car. 

Nyx was a pretty good listener, sure. He had a little sister, which he stated was the reason why he’s pretty good with drama (just never tell his sister he said ‘drama’). Crowe and Ferox both hated to admit it, but the man was one of the best places to turn to when you needed to vent or breakdown around. He should’ve been a therapist or something honestly. 

But Ferox was stubborn. Just plain stubborn. He had been raised to never let anyone into his personal life. That was just a way for people to use and abuse him. Best to keep everyone at arm’s length and **never** burden others with your problems. Those weren’t his mother’s words; those were his. 

He hated having to bother someone with something he should be able to handle. Any slight inconvenience to someone’s day left him feeling like a sack of shit. Maybe it was because for most of his life, people were at his beck and call. He had maids to pick out his clothes, someone to draw a bath or comb his hair, a chef to cook for him at any time of day or night… 

He felt so utterly worthless. It was their job, sure, but it felt…wrong to call someone in the middle of the night just because he wanted a snack. He should’ve been able to get one himself, but he couldn’t. He was **the Prince** , it was people’s job to do menial tasks for him. 

It was his job to burden people apparently. He made sure not to ask for much. If he got hungry, even if it was to the point he got shaky, he didn’t call the chef. He never told the maids what he wanted to wear, never asked for a bath or someone to comb his hair. He tried to lift the burden of his life from everyone else’s shoulders as much as possible. 

After all, no one should have to deal with the hurricane of shit that was his life. 

“So…uh…” Ferox mumbled as they got stopped at a light. “Sorry you got dragged into that…” He played with the beads on his hip. He stroked the phoenix feather a few times. Maybe some of its good luck would rub off on him. Doubtful, but he’d take any help he could get at the moment. 

Nyx glanced over at him in disbelief. “You are seriously worried about me, and not how the creep got into your apartment?” Ferox frowned to himself. His eyes stayed fixed on the license plate in front of them. He held his ice closer. 

“He probably just shimmied the lock; they aren’t that sturdy.” Ferox gave a dead shrug. “Besides, it wasn’t…I didn’t want you to be dragged into my drama is all.” 

“Look, Fero, I know you have a weird aversion to asking for help, but when I heard you screaming through the wall, what the hell was I supposed to do? Just plug my ears?” Ferox sighed. Damn his hero complex. 

“I don’t need a hero,” he growled. 

“Not trying to be a hero, just a friend.” 

_And that’s the problem…I don’t think I deserve friends…_

***** 

Nyx shut off the engine once they were in the visitor parking lot. No one was going to yell at the King’s car just sitting there after all. At least…no one with brains. 

Though at this school, brains were a hard thing to come by. Ferox went to this high school when he came to Insomnia. Worst two years of his life really. It wasn’t the schoolwork; that was child’s play next to what his mother had him doing. It was just the people. Bullies, teachers who didn’t do shit, a principal who tried to expel him for punching a guy’s face when he tried to grope Ferox in the locker room… 

“I still hate this place…” He whispered as every dark memory started to surface. He shoved them all back. He didn’t want to start down that line of depression…at least not with someone around. It got pretty ugly and he didn’t want to ruin his makeup. It took forever to darken his eyelashes after all. 

“If it was anything like my high school, don’t blame you.” Nyx mumbled back. Then he looked over at Ferox. “You know, now that I think about it, how did you manage to go through high school without…” he motioned vaguely to all of Ferox, “becoming known?” 

Ferox cocked an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. “I put temporary dye in my hair every morning, and posed as Cor’s nephew.” Nyx’s eyebrows shot up. “I was living with him, so it was at least believable.” 

“What about gym? Wouldn’t the showers get rid of the hair dye?” 

“That was my last class, so I’d just wait for everyone to leave before I got dressed and just took a shower when I got back to the house. After…a thing happened, Cor had me training to be a Crownsguard so I was exempt from the class.” The thing was the groping incident, but he’d rather not get into that at the moment. Nyx already knew too much about Ferox’s problems with men. 

Nyx nodded for a second. “So Cor had to go to your parent teacher meetings?” He chuckled at the mental image he had. “Can’t say he seems like the parenting type.” 

“He had his moments, though I think he was talking to the actual fathers in the Citadel.” Ferox smirked at the thought. “And the teachers would just call him usually. He did have to go to a few meetings, but those he scheduled.” 

“You subjected your teachers to having talks with the Marshal?” Nyx joked. Ferox shrugged again. 

“They’re the ones who were being assholes.” 

Nyx looked at the clock on his phone. “We got a few hours before the school bell…” He then turned to Ferox with a serious look on his face. One that said Ferox had no choice in whatever he was thinking. “So you’ve got time to take a nap.” 

Ferox groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m. Fine. Really.” 

Nyx narrowed his eyes. “Uh-huh, I don’t believe you.” Dark blue eyes stared him down. Ferox sighed, all the fight in him was just getting worn down. Between early morning talks and the afternoon drama, Ferox was about at his own limit. He kinda felt like curling up and just crying. Or dying. Dying would be preferable. 

But…he just knew he’d have a nightmare now. All the stress in his body guaranteed it. “I’m just going to have another one and get zero sleep anyway…” Not to mention, he usually thrashed in his nightmares. And cried unfortunately. It wasn’t his favorite thing to do in the world. 

Nyx seemed to see right through his excuse though. “Fero, I’ve been in the tent with you while you were flailing about before; I’m used to it. You won’t bother me.” Before Ferox could say anything, Nyx unbuckled both their seat belts and reached over Ferox to the little buttons that lowered the seat’s back. 

Ferox glared at the smug smirk in his personal bubble. This close and he could see the little tattoo below Nyx’s eye most people thought was a beauty mark. Had he not been so used to Nyx and Libertus’ habit of invading his bubble, he might have been flustered. Instead, though, he just huffed as he was slowly leaned back. 

“Get some sleep at least. Don’t care if it’s a cat nap. Then you might talk me into getting you coffee.” 

Ferox grumbled a few curses under his breath. But… “Fine but only because you are threatening coffee.” 

Nyx snorted while Ferox tried to make himself slightly comfortable. Funny how the minute the seat was all the way down, his body seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. He hadn’t let himself feel his sleepless nights. Just kept moving or thinking, anything to keep the sleep away. But when he suddenly couldn’t? 

His eyes closed and minutes later, he was out like a light. 

***** 

It was always the same dream… 

The one that gave him his old room back with its gilded white walls and hard marble floors. The sun roof above his bed would let him see the stars at night. The large windows on the west side overlooked Graela, a thousand lights in a sea of black. If he looked hard enough, he knew he could see the great mirror stone below him in the courtyard. 

If only his mind would let him see it without all the other bits…maybe then he wouldn’t mind the thought of the gardens with hanging foliage over the walkways, or the waterfalls that fell in the grand foyer. He wouldn’t feel pain remembering the grand library with bookcases up to the painted ceiling. Maybe…he wouldn’t mind missing home. 

But, however pretty his home was, it was nothing more than a gilded cage, a one way mirror. And it would always be shattered… 

***** 

His mother entered the room like a ghost, no sound slipping from her movements. The moonlight covered her in pale hues, bleaching any color from her light silver hair. It flowed down in soft waves as though just unpinned and freshly brushed. She locked the doors, arming the system in rapid succession. Her dress, a silken and wrinkled mess, fluttered around her bare feet as she picked up her skirts and ran towards him. 

For a moment, Ferox didn’t think she was real. Surely this was a wraith, a spirit like the story of the painting in Altissia. His mother never looked frightened or disheveled. Yet this wraith’s eyes shone with fear as she came to his bedside. 

“Up,” she whispered softly to him when she got near. Her delicate hand wrapped around his arm. “Up, up.” She tugged, throwing back the covers. Her voice shook; a cold chill ran down Ferox’s spine as he scrambled to get out of bed. “Get dressed, dulcissimus, quickly now.” 

“What’s—“ he started. His mother’s hand covered his mouth. 

“Shhh,” she whispered. “Quiet, we haven’t much time.” Her eyes flickered back forth between his eyes before she let him go. A little push against his back directed him towards his dresser. 

What was going on? His stomach began to knot. Anxiety wrapped around his heart like the Glacian had grabbed it. He moved across the room to his dresser, each step slowed as though through a blizzard. His right hand shook terribly as he started pulling clothes out. 

“Dress for cold, dear,” his mother told him quietly. She made little whispers of movements behind him. Things clicked and shifted like being stuffed into a bag. Ferox quickly got himself dressed in one of the rare wool shirts his mother approved of and jeans. 

He turned to his mother, slipping the little necklace he always wore around his neck. “Mamma,” he whispered to her, “what’s going on?” She held a finger to her lips, listening intently to the sitting room. 

She turned her head towards him. Two glaciers looked over the room as though she was deciding what should stay. When she glanced at him, she tsked her tongue softly. Skirts in one hand, two bags in the other, she went over to his armoire. She pulled out his heavy coat and a scarf. 

She placed the bags on the floor and faced him. He bent forward a little so she could slide the scarf over his neck with practiced precision. Her fingers touched the little pendant, a solemn look in her eyes. She handed him his coat, and pointed over to his boots. “Hurry, get those on.” 

He opened his mouth to ask once more, but she was already digging through his drawers and neatly placing clothes into one of the bags. He furrowed his eyebrows. The ice crept through his body. He rushed to put the coat on, fingers clumsy on the buttons. Trying to get his shoes on proved to be even harder. 

No sooner had he finished tying the laces than his mother had held out one of the backpacks for him. She looked over the room once more before giving a soft sigh. Her eyes hardened when she looked back up at him, her normal composure back. He took the bag from her, touching it like it was a bomb. 

She walked over to a gilded picture frame near his bookcase. He never did like the painting. It was a pastel picture of what a forest would look like at night with daemons peering out in the branches. Sometimes, the longer he stared at it, the more daemons he would find…or swear appeared, watching him. Gave him nightmares as a child. 

His mother, however, was looking over it like it was a fine piece of art. Her fingers traced over the carved frame’s filigree. Near the bottom left, she pressed a section in. The middle right, she pressed another section. A whirling sound came from the frame. The imps’ eyes flashed once as the large shell-like ornament at the bottom split open. Ferox’s eyes widened. Was that why he couldn’t get rid of the thing? 

His mother held up her tattooed hand to the mirror-like metal. A laser scanner flickered to life. The blue lights scanned up and down, flashing as they hit the lighter shimmering lines of the design. Machinery whirled as something clicked into place. The bookcase groaned as it began to slide. 

“What’s going on?” He asked again. His eyes stared into a black hole beyond his bookcase. When did that get there? Perhaps it was the craziness of the situation, but he felt like giggling nervously. He shouldn’t have a secret passageway in his room. This wasn’t a terrible B-rated movie Aranea liked to sneak him when he was sick. Speaking of…where was she? 

His mother waved him towards the passageway. “Quickly now, dulcissimus, come, come.” Ferox blinked at her for a moment. This was crazy. He clenched his right fist tightly, hoping it stopped shaking. 

His mother frowned. The hard set of her eyes snapped him back into reality. He slipped the backpack into place and hurriedly went passed her. He stopped when he didn’t hear her follow him. He turned and looked at her. “Mamma?” Sadness softened her eyes as she stepped towards him. She looked so petite and small, barely coming up to his collarbone. 

“Listen to me,” his mother cupped his face, pulling him down to her height. Her piercing green eyes glistened with…fear? “Listen very carefully, dulcissimus, go to the end of this passage; stop at nothing. Do not look back to see if I’m behind you, understand?” Her eyes darted between his. 

His heart beat a thousand times a minute. What was going on? Fear coiled around him in an icy grip. Tears stung his eyes. This wasn’t happening… 

His mother’s thumbs wiped them away before they could fall, her face becoming stern. “No, none of that. You are Ferox Aisa-Aldercapt, Heir to the throne of Niflheim, remember that always with your head held high. They might take everything else away from you, but they cannot take away who you are.” 

“I don’t understand,” Ferox managed to choke out. A noise made his mother turn to look over her shoulder for a moment. Was someone trying to get into his rooms? “What’s going on? Where’s Aranea and Father?” 

“There’s a letter in the bag, read it when you are on the train to Tenebrae, do not stop until you are on that train, understand? Follow the instructions to the letter, and do not trust anyone that’s not in there.” She kissed his forehead, whispering, “You’ll know soon enough, dulcissimus.” 

She stepped back, squaring her shoulders. She grabbed the bag at her side and thrust it into his arms. Ferox nearly dropped it as she pushed him towards the passageway. “Go, go, before they see us.” He heard the door to his front rooms fly open. His mother gasped, eyes wide for a moment. 

With more strength than a woman of her size should’ve had, she shoved him into the pitch black passageway. He fell to the marbled ground, looking up at his mother framed by moonlight. Her sharp features smoothed into the deadly grace she was known for. When she looked back down at him, she gave a sad smile. 

“Remember all that I taught you, but…never forget that I loved you with all the stars in the sky, dulcissimus.” Before he could even reply, she slammed the hidden entrance closed. His eyes widened at the darkness. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something as he heard shuffling on the other side. 

All he could do was shake, clutching the bag to his chest. People entered the room, shouting. He couldn’t understand a word of it. His mother spoke, the lilting tone drifting to him in a garbled mess. 

Then gunshots went off. He jumped, a little whimper leaving his mouth. Tears flowed down his cheeks in the silence. _No…she’s still alive…she has to be…someone got to her in time and saved her…_

He waited for the door to open again, but only silence could be heard. He held his breath. Blood pounded in his ears. 

“Spread out, he’s here somewhere,” came through the wall. They must’ve been very close then. Ferox scrambled backwards. He knew that voice. It was Caligo, one of his father’s generals…What was going on? 

“There’s no way out of this room, sir,” someone replied. 

“I doubt she didn’t have an escape, if I know that harlot,” Caligo grumbled. He mumbled something. Ferox slowly moved backwards on his hands, eyes never leaving the entrance. Malice dripped from the words. Bile churned in his stomach. “Cut her hand off, we’ll need that tattoo of hers…” 

Tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t understand. Why did they have to…He stood up. He wanted to run out there and demand answers, but his body turned cold. His head knew death was a few feet from him; but his heart broke knowing his mother was on the other side. A thousand thoughts whirled in his mind. 

Should he run? Should he wait? What if they found the entrance? What happened to Aranea? His father? What was in the bag? How did this happen? Why? 

_Go to the end of this passage_ played through his head, breaking through the chaos. Mechanically, Ferox put the messenger bag’s sling over his head. His body didn’t feel real. Cold, numb like this wasn’t his body. His mother’s words ran on repeat, unlocking his legs. He turned and began to run. _Don't look back._

The corridor stretched out, only a few feet illuminated by soft blue lights like circuits running along the floor. He ran forward through darkness. He’d get close to the end of the lights. More sprang to life further ahead. The passage grew before his eyes, morphing. His feet pounded against the marble. 

_Go to the end of this passage…You’ll understand soon enough…_ echoed around him. 

_Quickly now_ whispered in his ear. 

_I loved you with all the stars in the sky_ came from behind him. Tears stung at his eyes. 

_Cut off her hand_. 

Ferox’s boots hit asphalt. The corridor gave way to a tunnel. The overhead lights shone dimly, trying (and failing) to beat back the gloom of night. He could see the end up ahead. Bright lights cut through the darkness. Lights meant people. 

The sounds of imps ricocheted behind him. Shrill little laughs came. Dark bolts flew passed him. He let out a quiet yelp. His hands rose defensively, like they could stop it. He staggered a little to the side. His legs burned, bones splintering with every step. He gulped in air, throat broken and cracked. 

Another round of bolts flew by. His feet tripped. The gun in his hand clicked against the ground as he caught himself. He whirled the barrel behind him. The gun popped three times before he got his feet back under him. The bullet cases barely tinged off the ground before he ran again. 

_Please…_ he cried in his head, _Someone help…_ Fresh night air hit his face. Almost there. His heart pounded harshly against his ribcage. 

Pain shot through his left thigh. A scream came out as he staggered. Asphalt bit at his hands and face. The gun skidded away from him. Hot wetness gushed from his leg. He looked down. Blood soaked into his jeans around a tiny thorn. 

His head began to spin. Did it have poison on it? His throat constricted. He heard the daemons behind him. Wicked sounds echoed around him. Somewhere it sounded like another doorway ripped open. He looked up at the bright light beginning to swim in his vision. 

“Help…” came out as a whisper. He crawled his way to his feet. His left leg numbed, blood rushing out. It dragged behind him as he wobbled forward. “Help me…” Black danced around the edges of his vision. He swayed. His head disconnected from his body for a moment. His world turned around itself as he fell over the guard rail. 

He barely felt himself hitting the ground with a dull thud. His body moved mechanically to his hands and knees. He swayed again before falling back to the ground. The imps clicked over the road. His heart stuttered. Cold gripped his limbs. _Am I dying?_ he wondered absently. He could hardly care. How many times had he wanted to die? Who would even notice right? 

_No one would miss me,_ he thought. He felt a gentle touch, warm and soft as a feather. For the moment the world dissolved away into the lush Tenebraen gardens. Sunlight filtered through the greenhouse’s glass. 

_“You can’t believe that, can you?”_ a calm voice asked. Ferox let his eyes drift open. Blue-grey eyes gazed down at his arms, at the jagged lines over his skin. Light blonde hair fell into the girl’s eyes. Her small hands held onto one of his. Why did she look so sad? He barely knew her. 

_They can just make another heir,_ he thought back. That’s right. He was genetically crafted, a test tube baby. They could just do it again. 

“ _They can make a thousand heirs, but only one would be you,_ ” she pointed out. He could feel some warmth coming back into his limbs. His right hand burned where she touched it. The tattoo brightened and flickered like a flame. 

_Why do you care? You don’t know me…_

The girl smiled, “ _I’d like to._ ” She turned over his hand and pressed a necklace into his palm. A Sylleblossom floated in the middle of a small orb. 

_What’s this?_

“ _A reminder that there are a great many people who would miss you._ ” 

Ferox’s eyes snapped opened. The cold, dark Lucian forest came into focus. His body ached as he pushed himself up. “Help me!” He screamed with all his might. His voice cracked as he screamed over and over. His eyes searched frantically for some place to go as he heard the daemons getting closer. Something scraped the ground. The air chilled. 

A rock lay against the wall with just enough room for him to (hopefully) squeeze through. His body shook against the poison in his system. He crawled his way towards it. He was in no way small anymore; still, he all but shoved himself into the gap. He scrambled to sit against the far back of the tiny makeshift cave. 

Imps’ eyes glinted. Clawed hands reached into the entrance. Nails scraped against the rock, inane chatter rising from the little daemons. Ferox’s heart pounded in stutters. His body shook and spasmed. He squeezed his eyes shut as something else approached. 

Wet noises filled the air before silence. He could hear an airship not too far off…not more Magiteks…The old cuts on his arms flared with pain. He had barely survived the last attack. 

Dirt crunched under a boot. He froze. Was it Caligo? Some other lackey? He couldn’t help the little whimper that slipped out from his mouth. 

Light shone in his eyes… 

***** 

“Wake up!” pierced through his mind. Ferox’s eyes snapped open. His heart hammered against his ribs. His right hand trembled. For a moment, he couldn’t tell what was up and what was down. He blinked several times. 

Slowly, he realized Nyx’s hands restrained his wrists. Dark blue eyes watched him, worry in their depths. “You’re awake, right?” Nyx mumbled. He looked skeptical. Ferox let out a sigh, his head falling back against the seat. He took in a shaky breath before nodding. Another nightmare. The same nightmare he had for nine years. 

Nyx let go of his wrists. “You…” 

“I’m fine,” Ferox cut him off. His voice shook a little. “Just a dream.” Nyx looked at him with one eyebrow cocked. Ferox really hoped he hadn’t been talking in his sleep…that would’ve been embarrassing. He tried to give a smirk, but something had dried on his cheeks. He quickly dabbed under his eyes, trying to rip the damn tear tracks from his face. Not cool, Subconscious, not cool. 

Nyx thankfully just sort of nodded in silence. Ferox stared up at the roof of the car. He inhaled to the count of four. He counted to seven before he exhaled. Slowly his heart rate returned to normal. 

“Did I miss anything?” Ferox asked when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall apart. His hand still trembled, but he didn’t feel that weird floaty half-consciousness thing anymore. Nyx ducked his head a little to look up at the school. 

“Nah, class hasn’t ended yet…though I think those girls over there think we were doing something not entirely professional with how much they are giggling…” He calmly noted. Not a trace of a smirk was on his face. Ferox didn’t know if he should be horrified or if this was one of those ‘wink wink’ moments. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing something not entirely professional with you,” Ferox smoothly covered. He gave a suggestive wink at his friend. Nyx snorted, a smirk lighting up his face. He gave a consolatory pat on his forearm. 

“For one, not in the King’s car and two, a little out of my league,” Nyx joked. Now was Ferox out of his league, was Nyx out of Ferox’s league, or was semi-public sex not up his alley? These were the questions that kept him up at night. 

“So my dryspell continues…” He sat himself up. He flicked down the visor and looked in the mirror. Well…at least his face wasn’t a total mess. “I blame you, you know.” 

Nyx gave an apologetic smile. “That’s fine.” He rifled around in the console’s cubby for a minute before handing Ferox a travel pack of tissues. Ferox licked a corner of one and cleaned up around his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad this time actually. You didn’t punch me at least.” 

Ferox gave a weak chuckle, feeling a little bit of the gloom break off. “Dammit, and you really deserved it this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew made it through another one! I'll be honest, I have no clue how to write text messages both in the formatting sense and the actual messages themselves. I use complete sentences just minus some punctuation...so...no idea if I got them right or not. Also there's a funky section that I can't for the life of me figure out how to fix and I gave up so you'll just have to deal with it since I'm not the most HTML literate. 
> 
> Promise it gets better next chapter. Little bit more action-y at least. And nope no romance (sorry if that's what you are here for...I like slow burns, I cannot lie).


	3. [insert snappy Latin phrase here]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magically fun things happen and Ferox is there to be a negative nancy/potty mouth (literally not much happens basically but I'm tired and feel this ends well enough)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: I don't know how to format texts on here. So I guessed? No idea if I succeeded or not.
> 
> And again, nothing happens here, but you know 20 pages of nothing is better than three more months of trying to get somewhere right? Give and take.

Noctis, 12:48pm: So?  
Did you look into it yet? 

Ignis, 2:30pm: Sorry, was in a meeting  
Shouldn’t you be in class? 

Noctis, 2:45pm: I was at lunch  
Before you even start  
It’s my free period. Relax, Specs 

Ignis, 2:50pm: In that case, you should be studying. You’ve only so much time in a day. 

Noctis, 2:51pm: Yeah yeah, did you look into it yet? 

Ignis, 2:53pm: No I was going to stop by the Marshal’s office between meetings.  
You’ve work tonight, yes? 

Noctis, 2:56pm: Yeah, late shift, don’t worry about dinner.  
Txt me when you get their files, k? 

Ignis, 3:00pm: As you wish 

***** 

“So, how’s it going with your two stalkers?” Prompto asked lightheartedly. Noctis rolled his eyes and punched his friend’s shoulder as they walked down the busy halls. “Hey you could’ve gotten much worse in my opinion.” 

“How? Two guys paid to shadow me?” Noctis scoffed. He glanced around, hoping no one was listening to them. Last thing he wanted was more weird rumors about him. A few classmates already had asked why the Glaive showed up yesterday and if his dad was okay. He frowned, watching his shoe kick a pencil down the tiles. 

Prompto, however, was determined to bust his sour mood. “At least they are hot.” Noctis’s head snapped up and over to his giant grin. For a moment, he could barely register what he was hearing. He stopped to glare at his friend, fighting to keep his voice down. 

“Seriously, dude! We’re in the middle of school!” 

“Everyone thinks they’re hot, dude,” Prompto laughed. “You got the poster boys of the Glaive as bodyguards.” He pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons. “I was kinda curious about them…so kinda did a Moogle search on them.” He turned his screen so Noctis could see. “Not a lot of stuff, but I did find the fansite—did you know there is a **fansite** for the Glaive and Guards?” 

Noctis furrowed his eyebrows at the screen. _Glaives and Guards_ scrolled across the top in front of a shield with the Bahamut symbol the Glaives had on their uniforms. The mobile site was done up in greys, purples, and blues with a little menu to help navigate to different sections. Forums, news, FAQs…art? He snatched the phone to look closely. 

Yep it did indeed say ‘art’. “The hell?” 

Prompto grabbed his phone back with a chuckle. “Right? Apparently both groups have their fans, enough to warrant an entire website.” He clicked the ‘forum’ link. The screen blinked and came back with the typical ‘rules and conditions’ posts. But scroll passed that and they entered into hundreds of posts about theories, news, and several of them seemed to be a fan war between the factions. 

“And Cor lets this slide?” Noctis asked. He noticed some posts about the Immortal, theories mostly. Though some…some were not so much theories as they were fantasies. How did this site remain online? 

“Freedom of speech, dude. They aren’t harming anyone, and I think they are moderated.” Prompto shrugged, “So long as they don’t include scandalous news about your family, I imagine anyone else is fair game.” 

Noctis frowned slightly. The only news about his family that was allowed was news his dad gave freely. Sure the press could write about functions including Noctis or Regis, or things involving them, but not like the gossip mags you’d buy at the checkout line. At most, Noctis got included in the ‘best dressed’ (he blamed Ignis for that suit) list at the one gala he attended. 

“So what does a weird fansite have to do with my bodyguards?” Noctis asked. He straightened and looked over at Prompto warily. 

The mischievous glint in the blonde’s eyes made him think he didn’t want the answer. “Well, lots of things.” He poked a few things on the screen and brought up a sort and filter screen. “Sort by ‘Glaives’ and ‘Nyx’ aannnd!” He pressed submit. Out of the hundreds of thousands of posts, probably about a third of them included ‘Nyx’. 

Noctis blinked at the screen. “Damn.” He thought a moment. “And Ferox?” He almost instantly regretted asking by the playful smirk. He almost groaned; Prompto apparently wasn’t going to let him live that down anytime soon. 

“Well Mr. Mysterious, has about a fourth of the Glaive posts. Most of them centered around the hood and who he is.” 

Maybe Noctis should’ve Moogled them too, might have saved time and he wouldn’t’ve had to make Ignis deal with Cor. Plus…fans usually got their hands on things not meant for public eyes. Or at least had some pretty solid theories. 

Just as Noctis was contemplating that, Prompto continued, “But seriously if you go into the art section,” a small blush began to creep up Prompto’s neck. Noctis cocked an eyebrow. “I suggest doing that with no one around…” He only got redder as he coughed awkwardly. “But uh if you go into the art section, there’s a lot of the two, with 95 percent of the comments being ‘he’s hot’.” 

“What’s…dare I ask what’s in the art section?” Noctis could probably guess by his friend’s nervous shifting. Prompto scratched his nose and gave a nervous laugh. “Nevermind, probably don’t want to know anyway.” 

Prompto locked his screen, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “Anyway, so they picking you up again today?” Noctis sighed. He started for the entrance again. The halls had cleared out mostly now, their shoes echoing eerily in the silence. 

“Yeah. Said they would have to every day.” 

“Do they…like just stand around outside or?” 

He paused thinking for a moment. “No clue. I think Nyx said they go home for a little bit and have to drop off reports to Cor.” Noctis stopped to look out the window towards the front of the school. Sure enough a familiar black car waited, with two Glaives beside it. Ferox still had that hood on despite it being melt the sidewalks hot. “So…quick question, that site…you read anything on Hooded McSuspicious?” 

Prompto followed his line of sight. “Not really. Apparently he pals around with Nyx’s group, but most of the other stuff was theories.” He shrugged, adjusting his bag. “I did read some of the news thing; the site already knows the duo is guarding you.” Noctis sighed. “Of course everyone knows.” It seemed anything involving him spread like wildfire…which just made him want to crawl under a rock for all eternity. 

“You’re working tonight right?” Prompto asked, obviously changing the subject at Noct’s worsening mood. Noctis nodded. “Cool if I stop by on your break? Parents are working late again.” 

Noctis smiled sadly at his friend’s melancholy tone. Prompto always said it didn’t bother him that his parents worked a lot, but he knew he got lonely more often than not. The Argentums were good people, nice, polite, way more outgoing than their son, but Cloelia was a lawyer (a pretty damn good one too) and Silas was a nurse, so Prompto just smiled and told them not to worry. Probably didn’t want to talk about it either for fear of burdening anybody, too. 

“Sure, text me when you get there?” Was the only thing Noctis could think of doing. 

***** 

“Will you just pick something already?” Nyx grumbled under his breath. Ferox frowned at the menu in his hands. They were seated in a booth near the bar counter. Ferox could easily see into the kitchen through the archway to the right of him, where the Prince was chopping vegetables. Nyx got the job of using the mirror behind the counter where drinks were made, to keep an eye at the diner around them. 

At the moment, the diner the Prince worked at was filled with hushed conversations and food being scarfed down. It wasn’t late enough for a big dinner rush, but still early enough for teens to be chatting excitedly about…whatever it is normal people chat about. 

Ferox wouldn’t really know. Normal conversation with him usually consisted of a lot of silence and small talk. Both very awkward. Nyx and company were about the only people he could converse with…or at least didn’t care about his initial weirdness. 

“I’m not eating fish,” Ferox threw back just as quietly. Unfortunately for him, Lucians seemed to enjoy fish beyond any reason. In Niflheim, which was primarily a desert mind you, fish was either imported, grown in a fish farm, or frozen and shipped from the coast. At least in Graela. 

Insomnia was technically a coast city, so fish wasn’t considered hard to come by or even expensive to buy. Which meant pretty much every eatery in the city had fish on the menu. Much to Ferox’s disdain. 

Nyx sighed in exasperation. “What are you? Five? I’ve never met an adult who is as picky about food as you.” Ferox looked over the menu to glare at him. He was careful not to let too much of his face show from under the hood. He was vulnerable right now. One slip up and BAM cover blown and he was going to be dragged back to Niflheim and executed. 

Okay so that was an exaggeration. He had been doing this for years now; he knew that most people didn’t notice much about people’s faces so long as you gave them no reason to look closely. That’s what the makeup was for and he had perfected being uninteresting and unnoticeable ages ago. Still, the paranoia of not belonging and needing hide every day…it didn’t ever settle. 

“I swear to you,” Nyx interrupted Ferox’s dark thoughts quickly, “everything on the menu is edible. Me and Lib have eaten here plenty of times.” 

Ferox snorted in disbelief. He levelled an unimpressed stare at him. “Pardon me if I no longer trust your taste-buds after you eat that…stick meat thing nearly every day.” He shuddered remembering the one time he let Nyx order for him. Rubber meat squares overseasoned with…something (he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was grated shit to be honest) and out of season vegetables shoved on a stick he wasn’t entirely sure was ever cleaned. 

Nyx rolled his eyes. “I told you that was a) a new cook and b) not real Galahdian food.” 

“Yes well, it was also c) the last time I will ever trust your food advice.” 

“Yet you still eat what I cook you…” Nyx pointed out with a smug smirk. Ferox stuck his tongue out. Nyx furrowed his eyebrows at the little silver ball on Ferox’s tongue. “You…have a tongue piercing?” 

Ferox cocked an eyebrow. He supposed unless someone had kissed him, they probably wouldn’t have noticed; plus he tended to not put it in when he was guaranteed to get punched in the mouth. “Yeah? So?” 

Nyx shook his head in disbelief. “You’re such a hoodlum,” he chuckled as he looked up at the mirror. Ferox smirked. 

“Some people like tongue piercings you know…” He gave a suggestive wink. Nyx glanced at him from the corner of his eyes then shook his head again. “Hey don’t knock it until you try it.” 

“I think I’ll pass on the offer.” 

“Shame, I’m told I’m pretty good.” 

Nyx snorted as he tried to keep a straight face. After a second, his front faded and he started chuckling. Ferox smirked, hiding it with the menu. A smug satisfaction bloomed in his chest at the laughter. He sometimes wondered why he loved making people laugh or smile, why people became so…pretty when they smiled. Like most of his thoughts, though, it got shoved to the back by reality. 

After a minute more of looking over the items, Ferox tossed the menu on the table with a huff. Nyx took a sip of his water. “Well?” 

“Not eating,” Ferox mumbled. He glanced up at the mirror. “twelve o’clock—well for you it’s more like six…” A guy in a hoodie sat alone in a booth further down. He sat with his back against the wall. Every few seconds he would look around nervously, eyes darting to the kitchen. Now, Ferox couldn’t throw any stones about the hood given he was also wearing one, but the guy was either high or up to something risky. 

Nyx barely glanced up. “Yeah, saw him.” He reached over and slid the menu over to his side. As far as any outsider knew, they were just two Glaives looking to get dinner after work. Kept the disruption to business to a minimum; apparently people would get nervous if the Prince had bodyguards with him at work. “Could just be waiting to ask his waitress out, though.” 

Ferox frowned. “Or he could be high on drugs.” 

Nyx rolled his eyes with a smirk. He began looking through the menu. “I’m going to go with nerves, keep my naivety high you know?” Before Ferox could comment, Nyx shot right back into the original topic. “You are eating, even if I have to funnel the food down your windpipe.” So much for Ferox’s attempt at dissuasion. 

“You mean like a bird? Because I don’t really have a kink for prechewed food you know.” 

“No I mean, funnel in your mouth, blended food in the funnel so food goes down your throat.” Nyx leveled a hard look at him. Ferox sighed again. 

“Gods you are worse than my mother, I swear.” 

“Fero, you are eating, end of story.” 

“Case and point.” Ferox grumbled. He played with the salt shaker, sliding it between his hands a few times. He understood why he had to eat; he just didn’t want to. Or he was too nervous to feel hungry. One of the two. 

Nyx watched him for a second before turning back to the menu. “Hamburger?” 

“No.” 

“Ribs?” 

“Nuh-uh.” Ferox felt kind of childish like he was five and being asked what he wanted for lunch. The cooks would do the very same thing with him. They’d give him a food and he’d say either yay or nay. Back then it was because he got overwhelmed with a lot of choices (he didn’t have a lot of autonomy, so what little he got usually swamped his brain). Now…he didn’t know. 

Nyx sighed loudly. He tapped his finger against the counter. His eyes roamed over the words again, before flipping it to the back. Ferox involuntarily perked up. 

The back had the desserts. 

***** 

“So…” Ferox took a sip from his milkshake, looking as pleased as a cat with cream, “how’s your sister doing?” Nyx leaned against the table, shaking his head as though in disbelief he let Ferox get a chocolate milkshake for dinner. He’s the one that came up with compromise. 

“Good; complains about work mostly.” Nyx shrugged. “Says since me and Lib aren’t there, things are really quiet.” He gave a wry smirk. 

Ferox snorted. While the rebels in Galahd haven’t quit hassling the Imperials there, it has died down considerably. Mostly because a lot of the rebels joined the Glaive back at the beginning and…Nyx was really good at talking people into things. 

“She like her laptop?” Last spring Nyx managed to get his hands on a broken old laptop (ok so it wasn’t broken…just riddled with more viruses than a plague house) and asked Ferox to try and fix it. Took a while and a lot of side jobs for both of them to afford all the parts, but he did get it up and running smoothly before her birthday. 

Nyx chuckled. “I think she painted it blue with a coeurl pattern.” Well if she was claiming it as her own, that was a good sign right? Ferox also took note that she also had a thing for the Death Kitties. Maybe it was a Galahdian thing? Or it was for Nyx? He honestly didn’t understand siblings; some were at each other’s throats, and others were almost inseparable. 

Ferox sipped some more, watching the smile fade into Nyx’s classic worrying face. The one he got when he couldn’t do anything about whatever floated in his head. “Something wrong with her?” 

He waved the question away. “Nah. She’s fine.” Yet…his face didn’t look convinced. 

“You might want to tell that to your face because I don’t think it believes that,” Ferox joked. Nyx chuckled before looking up at the mirror. Ferox glanced back at the Prince, doing whatever it was short-order cooks did… “Seriously, though, everything’s fine, yes?” 

“Lib was saying there’s been some fights near the town is all.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Ferox made an ‘ah’ face. From what he knew, Libertus’s family sort of adopted Nyx’s sister when they decided to join up with the Glaive after a nasty counterstrike happened to their town. They didn’t like to go into a lot of detail for obvious reasons, but apparently, Nyx’s sister was severely injured and paralyzed from the waist down. Their mother...didn’t survive. 

So all Ferox could do is nod in understanding. “Ever think of dragging her here? I mean you could probably get some sort of apartment for her…” Nyx was already shaking his head. 

“Tried. Selena refuses to budge an inch and neither will Lib’s family.” 

Ferox sighed dramatically, “You Galahadians are so stubborn.” 

Nyx winked. “From what I can tell, your kind are just as stubborn.” Ferox cocked an eyebrow. Nyx looked down at the milkshake then back up to him. “But apparently my people are more stubborn than yours.” 

Ferox snorted. So Nyx usually got his way with everything and not just because Ferox couldn’t say no to a pretty face. Lucians, for all their faults, possessed remarkably strong wills and stubbornness for the sake of stubbornness. Or perhaps it wasn’t so much Lucians as it was just people in general. After all, Imperials…had the same problems. 

The bell on the front door jingled loudly. Ferox glanced behind Nyx’s shoulder. “Oi, Prince’s friend ten o’clock.” Ferox mumbled around the straw. Damn this shake was good… 

Nyx looked over just as Prompto noticed them. A smile far too bright and happy to be directed at Ferox graced the chocobo blond’s face. Nyx offered a smirk and a nod while Ferox gave a tiny nod in acknowledgment of his existence and then proceeded to duck his head. 

“You are way too anxious about people seeing your face,” Nyx whispered to him. Ferox shot him a glare from the corner of his eyes. Because he was right. Logically Ferox knew with the amount of makeup he had on at present, very few people would realize the faults of his spliced genetics. The almost ghostly white of his skin…well he wore a hood a lot so he could just not get a lot of sun. 

However, logic did not matter to him. He just kept imagining getting stoned to death or worse shipped back to Niflheim where he’d be put to a firing squad or publicly decapitated or locked away forever in a cell with only himself to talk to. The stuff of nightmares really. 

“Hey guys!” Ferox almost groaned (or whined) at the cheery voice. Nyx turned halfway toward Prompto, so he could still see the mirror but also wasn’t ignoring the kid. He gave a swift kick to Ferox’s leg. 

“Futuo …” Ferox muttered under his breath. Nyx blinked at the words. He only got a sarcastic smile for his confusion. Ferox took a deep breath before turning slightly to look at the kid. His hands tightened around the frozen glass in his grip. 

The familiar iron clamp seized his stomach like he was walking into school for the first time. His heart gave a funny twitch, unsure of if he was going to die or if his stomach was just not feeling good. A cold chill went up his spine and not from the shake. He almost wanted to throw up the chocolatey goodness that was the only thing keeping him from bolting. 

“What…was that?” Prompto asked. Ferox kept his eyes on the ground to the left of the kids shoes. Nyx shrugged and shook his head. 

_Don’t look, please for the love of Ifrit don’t look,_ he screamed in his head. Was his hood down far enough? Was he glaring? Did he get all the clumps of mascara off? Why was the chocolate tasting better the more anxious he got? 

“Dude…are you eating a chocolate shake for dinner?” 

Ferox stopped his anxious thoughts enough to blink stupidly at the random question. He lifted his eyes to Prompto’s face. The kid looked surprised and little bit envious, almost wrinkling his nose. “Uh…” Great. Now he couldn’t even string a sentence together long enough to lie. 

“At this point,” Nyx cut in, “I’m just happy he’s eating something.” Nyx gave a pointed look at Ferox, akin to the classic disapproving dad stare. 

“But wouldn’t that…I don’t know slow you down if you suddenly have to move?” Ferox stopped his nervous sipping. He cocked an eyebrow. 

“If I had to move right this second yeah,” Ferox managed to say. 

Nyx glanced over at the mirror for a second as some teenagers moved out from a booth behind him. “As it is though, he’ll burn through that in an hour.” 

Prompto furrowed his eyebrows. “I know I didn’t do well in Biology last year, but I’m pretty sure it takes longer than an hour to digest food.” Kid was kinda cute when he was confused. Got a little nose wrinkle and everything. Wait didn’t he already have that thought? 

_Okay, Ferox, you are slowly sliding into weird territory…did someone drug your shake?_ he almost laughed to himself. Anxiety was so awesome his head was fracturing into delusions. 

“Normally yes,” Ferox mumbled outwardly. “We, however, are not normal.” He paused at the little snort Nyx gave. 

“Speak for yourself, Fero.” Nyx laughed. 

He could only cock an eyebrow at him, taking a long sip to dramatically prolong the stare. “You watch cartoons. At age thirty. In your boxers. While drinking beer.” 

Nyx only smirked. “Everyone watches cartoons, no matter their age. No shame in that.” 

“I…never did until I met you and was forced.” 

“You are not normal…” Nyx shrugged. “I’m still thinking you were grown in a lab somewhere.” Ferox bit his tongue. Nyx wasn’t wrong per se. He wasn’t conceived naturally…more like in vitro fertilization with gene spliced gametes from his parents. Not a clone, but definitely not a part of the natural selection process either. Maybe that’s why he was so screwed up… 

Ferox frowned at his own thought before turning back to Prompto who was trying really hard not to laugh at them. “Anyway, tragedy that was my childhood aside, Glaives get some…eh…weirdness with the magic.” He shrugged. 

“Which is what?” Prompto asked as he sat down beside Ferox. Ferox instantly stiffened again which just made Nyx snort back a laugh. 

“Using magic comes at a cost, which means we burn through a lot more calories than regular people. Which means we need to eat more.” Nyx explained. He pointed at Ferox. “And this guy is a picky eater, so I don’t care what he eats so long as he gets a lot of calories when he does.” He motioned at the nearly gone shake. 

Prompto looked thoughtful for a moment. “So is that why Noct just eats everything in his house?” The two Glaives shared a strange look. “What?” 

Royalty, you know, the people who were born with magic? They shouldn’t be affected by the ‘constantly needing to eat’ thing. Regis, maybe, since he was sustaining the wall with his own life force. But the Prince? It should be no different than someone who was really flexible being able to bend backwards with little practice. 

“I mean,” Ferox started trying to sort his thoughts, “sure? Just weird that the Prince doesn’t have—” Nyx kicked his leg. “Ow, fuck!” Ferox glared at him. He jerked his neck to the side. Ferox glanced over and saw the Prince walking over with an eyebrow cocked. Like he heard their conversation. Great. “Kill me now, O mighty Bahamut,” Ferox whispered to the table as he rubbed the spot Nyx had kicked. Twice now. 

“He has better things to do,” Nyx muttered back. “Your Highness,” he nodded as Noctis took a seat next to him. Noctis opened his mouth, but his eyes drifted down to the milkshake in front of Ferox. 

“Are you just eating a milkshake?” the Prince asked without stopping the thought coming out his mouth. Ferox glared up at him from under the hood. Most of his face was still obscured, which continued to bug Noctis. 

“Can everyone stop questioning my life choices, please?” Ferox groaned. “Besides Nyx made me eat.” 

Nyx rolled his eyes. “I’m not having you pass out on duty. We’d both get written up.” 

“Please, you aren’t responsible for me anymore.” 

“Well one of us has to be responsible for you and since I don’t see you doing it…” Ferox glared at him. 

“I’m plenty responsible; I just find eating to be such a chore—a useless human function I could do without.” Ferox shrugged. If he could, he would learn how to do photosynthesis…or whatever it was fungus does? That would be more convenient than having to stop every four hours (or two depending on how much magic he had been using) to eat something. 

Hell if they’d let him, he’d just use magic to sustain his body…but nooooooooo that was ‘wasteful’ and ‘disrespectful’…also it may kill the King faster or something. No one was really sure how exactly the magic sharing worked. 

Nyx gave a deadpan look. “Do you or do you not have actual food in your apartment at this very moment?” Ferox’s eyes dropped to the table. He sipped on the last of the shake, the straw making a horrendous noise that Ferox winced at. “I gave you a list; did you just not go shopping?” 

The two teenagers hid their chuckles under their breath. Ferox narrowed his eyes at them, knowing they probably couldn’t see his face very well. “So this is what it’s like to watch someone get lectured…” Prompto whispered. 

“I think Iggy is scarier,” Noctis muttered. 

Ferox pushed the glass away, losing his one distraction. “I got some of the things…I just fail to see why I need to buy well over a hundred royals on groceries.” 

Nyx rubbed a hand over his face. “So you don’t have to next time?” Ferox wrinkled his nose. He could just buy little things here and there and make that hundred last for months. “And what the hell are you complaining about? Don’t you get an allowance every year?” 

“That’s for things like clothes and emergencies,” Ferox left out the ‘because the Glaives’ salaries were eaten up by rent’. Seriously, back home he’d be classified low-low lower class! How they expected anyone to be able to live off their wages was beyond him. He was barely able to afford internet, laundry, food, and basic necessities like deodorant and shampoo. Okay “barely’ was an exaggeration…he had maybe fifty left over usually. “And to keep you idiots, when we are outside the walls, from ripening.” He shudder at the last word. 

Also, he added in his head, the gil to royals exchange rate sucked…probably because gil was the Imperial Empire’s currency. Outside the walls, that’s all that was used in Lucis, thus making Insomnian ‘royals’ (as everyone called them due to the faces of royals they had on them) pretty much useless; it was often left to Ferox to see to the Glaive’s needs outside the walls as he was the only one with a) enough extra cash laying about and b) the only one who had actual gil. 

So between the fact that he would not suffer everyone’s stench after a particularly hard battle and that he would get so little for his gil here in the capital, he kept a large portion of his allowance in an outside-the-wall bank. 

“Allowance? Your parents still give you an allowance?” Prompto asked. “But you have a job?” Ferox winced slightly. He glared at Nyx who grimaced. He was going to owe Ferox for this. Now Ferox had to think of a lie…a convincing lie while his brain was having so much fun just trying not to draw attention to himself. 

Well…sometimes the truth is better? Not the whole truth obviously…but some? Right? He wouldn’t be outright lying to the Prince, and he wouldn’t be disobeying orders from the King…in theory. 

“Not parents…” Ferox mumbled. “God…uncle?” Ferox gave a helpless look towards Nyx as his Lucian failed him. 

But even Nyx looked confused. “Goduncle? Don’t you mean godparent?” Well at least he used the correct term for ‘brother (or in this case, brother-like-person) of a parent’. 

Ferox shook his head. “He never liked the things ‘parent’ implied, so no? Yes? Sorta?” A sigh slipped out. How the hell did he describe his relationship with his mother’s best friend who was also the Chancellor? Man was his family just a mine field or what? “He was…more like a crazy—well not crazy really just…eccentric I guess…anyway he was more like an uncle rather than another parent.” 

“And he still gives you money?” Noctis furrowed his eyebrows. Like it was strange someone outside the walls would have enough money to spare to send it to a grown man. Well…it was a little strange if you thought about it. Maybe most godparents stop sending money once the person was living on their own? Or maybe it was the outside the walls part that was tripping him up? Not many nice things were told about conditions outside the walls…beyond ‘the people have learned to rely on each other’. 

“I’ve long stopped worrying about Uncle Dyn’s whims and why they are there. You just roll with it and everything works out.” 

The Astrals smiled on him as the waitress chose that moment to stroll up to their booth. “And how are we doing?” she asked with a smile. Her eyes glanced at Ferox’s empty glass. “You want a refill or…?” She brushed her bangs from her eyes as she spoke. 

Ferox looked down at his glass in a moment while his brain processed the question. “No refill, but uh…” He looked back up at her, in about the closest form of direct eye contact he would dare, forgetting for a moment he was in the presence of two other people in favor of manners. 

For a moment, she looked familiar like he had gone to a class with her. Something about her heart shaped face framed with a curly brown bob style…of course that description was pretty generic wasn’t it? 

His eyes darted away a for split second out of nervous habit. “I uh wouldn’t say no to a glass of iced tea, though?” He managed a nervous smirk, hoping his staring would be forgiven or even better unnoticed. 

Her smile widened, a little sparkle in her brown eyes. “Sure thing.” She scribbled on her notepad despite them being probably her only booth now. “And you? You ready to order?” She turned her doe eyes to Nyx. Ferox noted her cheeks turning a little pink as she was hit with both his and Nyx’s “charming” smirks. She fidgeted with her bangs again as Nyx flipped the menu over and scanned the page. 

“Think I’ll just take the House Salad, just no onions, please?” Ah and there was that polite poster boy charm that just made you want to…well kiss and then probably slap him upside the head. At least…that was Ferox’s instinct. Nyx was not....well he was polite but…just it was such a “good boy” routine that it made his teeth hurt from how sugary it was. 

“Got it, anything else? You still fine with water?” The waitress—Valeria or so her nametag said—tucked her pen behind her ear. 

Nyx glanced over at Prompto, then at Ferox. “A basket of fries?” She gave a nod before leaning a bit forward to grab Ferox’s glass. 

“Alright then, give me two shakes and I’ll be right back.” And she headed for the kitchen, leaving the table in silence. Ferox let out a slow breath. Well, he managed. He didn’t know what he managed really, but hey he…didn’t panic? Yay? 

He glanced over at Nyx who wore an amused smirk. He cocked an eyebrow. “What?” He asked. When Nyx’s eyes motioned towards the side, Ferox turned his head. And found both the prince and his friend staring at him. 

“So you do have a face,” Prompto chuckled. Ferox blinked at him before his brain’s cogs clicked into place. “I mean, I was seriously starting to doubt that any of those pictures—” 

Ferox’s heart stuttered to a stop. “Pictures? What pictures?” Oh shit. Did someone leak pictures of him to the internet? Was there a mole? Was there a brigade of undercover of Imperial soldiers lying in wait for him in an alleyway? Okay the last one was entirely farfetched, even Ferox had to admit. But his stomach still clenched in complaint to the sudden escalation of his heart rate. 

He calmed a bit as the kid’s mouth snapped shut, his cheeks darkening. Prompto began fidgeting with the bands on his wrist. “Uh…” He gave a nervous chuckle. “I uh…may have sorta kinda moogled you two?” His ears were turning bright red now. 

Ferox glanced at Nyx who was trying very hard not to laugh. Wait...why wasn’t he more concerned? Shouldn’t he be at least a little sympathetic towards Ferox…oh wait. There was one thing that showed up online about any Glaive. One thing. One tiny, single, embarrassing thing: that damn fansite. 

No record or personnel file was stored digitally since no one ever really asked to see them. Sure they were classified “public records”, but honestly Ferox had filed enough of them to know they were the dry bone basics. Nothing really worth putting online or asking about anyway. 

The fansite? Well, everyone knew it was a thing and at parties or get togethers (after a few rounds of alcohol) someone would start a game of “Did you know?” using the site’s forum chat thingy. Usually it was a game of who can find the weirdest thing on recent pages, other times it was a game to see what rumors had sprouted. 

Ferox happened to know there were a lot about him in particular. Joys. Crowe liked to stalk the site (she was even a moderator…KnoweTheCrowe because of course she did). She sent him some rather…ahem…racy pictures people drew occasionally. Okay she sent him updates fairly regularly, but hey those people were damn talented regardless of if some of those positions and pairings weren’t actually possible. 

“You found the fansite, didn’t you?” Ferox muttered. Prompto’s face turned even redder. “Uh huh. Well yes I do indeed have a face; I’d like to think it is a fairly nice face too.” Nyx rolled his eyes at Ferox’s mock humility. 

Prompto shot a look over to the Prince with what Ferox would classify a teasing smile. The Prince just glared. Prompto yipped as he was kicked from under the table. He bent down to rub at the sore spot. “Jeez, abuse your subjects much?” he chuckled. 

Ferox’s phone beeped in his pocket, distracting him from the two teens. He fished it out of one of the many inside pockets his jacket held. A little notification appeared on the lock screen: Your appointment is scheduled for tomorrow at 10am. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. Wait. What? Appointment? He knew their yearly exams were going on, but he could’ve swore his wasn’t until next week. Or did he think that last week? “Hey, Nyx…” he started right was a basket of fries and Nyx’s salad arrived. 

“There you are,” Valeria chirped. She held out Ferox’s tea. 

“Oh thanks,” he muttered, quickly snatching it—without any physical contact thankfully. It was always embarrassing to him when he reached to take something from someone and he ended up touching them however briefly. It was just the worst thing ever. 

She gave a wide smile. “No problem; now you guys just give a shout if you need anything else, okay?” Did she just bat her eyelashes? Ferox had a sinking feeling in his stomach that she did indeed bat her eyelashes as she pushed her bangs away. 

“Sure,” Nyx replied. He waited for her to scurry back into the kitchen before looking at him. 

“You guys do know all the waitresses are in the kitchen giggling about you two, right?” Noctis piped up. His eyes drifted from the kitchen entry over two them. “They even did rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to wait on you.” 

“Seriously?” Prompto nearly choked on a stolen fry. He looked a bit sheepish at being caught sneaking one. “Oh uh, sorry, can—I mean may I—” 

“Go ahead, not like he’s,” Nyx jabbed a finger towards Ferox, “going to eat them.” 

“Ah, but dude these are so good. Like fresh out of the fryer good!” He proceeded to dunk a fry in whatever red sauce that came with fries….ketchup? Hell for all Ferox knew it was cocktail sauce (and it wouldn’t surprise him either). “Must be a perk of flirting with the staff?” 

This time Ferox rolled his eyes. “Or you know, the black jackets?” He motioned to the lovely Glaive insignia on his shoulder. Noctis snorted. 

“More like we ran out of fries and had to make more probably,” The prince sounded as if he was bored. Or maybe it was part of his aloof style? Or maybe Ferox was just paranoid and just thought anyone would be bored talking to him. Either or, neither nor. 

“See? No flirts required, just dumb luck.” Ferox shrugged. “And Shiva knows Nyx has plenty of that to go around.” He got another hard tap to his shins. He really ought to see about shin guards like Aurora had on her uniform. 

“So, Fero, something up?” Nyx asked as he started fixing his salad up. 

“Aside from you eating a salad?” Ferox quipped. Most of the time after missions, no one really touched salads. Not as filling and it took far more to actually amount to the necessary calorie intake needed. Ferox excluded, at least, but he was weird to begin with. 

Nyx rolled his eyes. “Unlike you, I can manage my intake just fine.” The Prince’s phone beeped at him. A sigh came out before he bade the three farewell and trudged back into the kitchen. 

Ferox watched through the kitchen door for a moment. Once the Prince had settled back into doing his job, Ferox turned his attention back to Nyx. His eyes flickered behind Nyx as a group of people seated themselves at another booth. 

“What were you going to say prior to the food coming?” Nyx tried again. Ferox blinked. What was he going to ask? His phone was in his hand…Oh right! 

“Do I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow?” He poked the home button to get the screen to light back up and showed him the notification. “I mean I knew I had one, but I thought it was next week or something?” 

Nyx munched on a mouthful of green for a moment, eyes looking up at the mirror. “Oh right, I was supposed to tell you: Lib switched appointments with you.” He took a sip of water. “Forgot about that, sorry.” 

Ferox furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?” 

“Well, we aren’t going to be at the Citadel Thursday, so rather than have someone drive to wherever we are to change out with you, then you have to drive back and forth…This way we are at the Citadel anyway.” He shrugged as he skewered a mushroom on his fork. Ferox wrinkled his nose. Ick. 

“Someone going to relieve me before the appointment?” Ferox frowned to himself. He hated doctors…not the doctor in particular, but just the visits. If he could get away with not going, he would do it. Thankfully, magic meant he could get away with not going a lot and for less time when he had to go. He’d die if he had to go the full six months of therapy whenever he busted a bone or something. 

“No we just thought I’d call you if the Prince is in danger.” Nyx rolled his eyes with an amused smirk. “Figure you can work on teleporting, see if that’s possible or not.” 

***** 

“Man,” Noctis groaned very loudly, “I’m beat.” He carelessly tossed his backpack on the floor right near the door. Ferox frowned as he stepped over it. “Work sucks.” 

Nyx glanced over at Ferox. There was a look in the Imperial’s eyes that said a ‘don’t even start complaining about your job’ argument was coming. After all, he worked four hours; they were going on 48 hours. 

Nyx rolled his eyes, giving Ferox’s shoulder a friendly shove towards the living room. “At least it’s clean and nothing’s trying to eat us, Fero.” Nyx whispered as the Prince disappeared into his kitchen. 

Ferox grunted in agreement. That was but a small consolation really. Around six, a family came into the restaurant with the most obnoxious and annoying, disrespectful little brats that continued to scream, throw food, and generally cause hell for an hour. And the parents did nothing. _**Nothing**_ like it was perfectly fine to let small terrorists disrupt everyone’s dinner! 

They were finally shown the door after one of the kids bumped into a waitress and caused a couple’s order to crash to the floor. But honestly, by that time, Ferox already had a splitting headache and he was pretty sure he cracked a tooth from grinding his jaw so much. He wanted to bark at them so much, just snap a tiny ‘sit the hell down’. 

Ferox glared at the stain on his jacket. Tiny, annoying devils threw a handful of fries—complete with ketchup—just as their parents were getting kicked out. Nyx took the brunt of it, ketchup all over the back of his jacket and hair. Ferox caught three fries in the face and some on his chest and lap. 

“Heathens.” Ferox growled to the stains all over his front. They’d have to grab their spare jackets from the barracks tomorrow and send these ones out for cleaning because these jackets were bitches to clean in a hurry. Sure, they were resistant to stains (something Ferox really wanted to know how and why it wasn’t marketed world-wide), but the fabrics used also didn’t take well to just a regular clean. No dryer either. 

Nyx chuckled to himself. “Yeah that was my least favorite diner experience to date.” Ferox glanced up at him. “I think one of the fries the youngest had been sucking on.” Both of them shuddered. 

“You should probably take a shower sometime, to get it out of your hair,” Ferox noted. Nyx grimaced. 

“It’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow now.” 

A soda can popping open disrupted them. Noctis came around the island counter sipping some form of fizzy…liquid sugar. It was blue and that was as much as Ferox could tell you. “Seriously? You have spit and ketchup all over the back of your head and you aren’t going to wash it out?” The Prince wrinkled his nose. 

Ferox snorted back a laugh at the face. It made him look like he was twelve. “Nyx, I know you love your job and all, but come on. I’d be cutting my hair off in your shoes.” 

“You’re a germaphobe, Fero. You’d want to cut your hair off if a kid touched it.” Nyx rolled his eyes. Ferox shrugged nonchalantly. Kids had sticky hands, so sue him. 

“If you are worried I’m going to wander around,” Noctis cut in as he made his way to the couch, “I’ll stay right here. Pretty sure one of you is enough for me watching tv, right?” Ferox glanced up at Nyx, who frowned. The Prince flopped down on his couch in an exaggerated fashion. 

While it was extremely unlikely anyone could infiltrate up this far, it was still highly possible. And sure Ferox could handle a few people at once, he’d also be responsible for getting the Prince out to a Guard…hard to do that when you are being ambushed. Nyx shook his head. “It’s fine, Your Highness. My apartment is just too far away to make a special trip.” Ah, so he was going for the penny-pinching, save on gas routine. A plausible one, yes, given that the car _was_ the King’s. 

Noctis narrowed his eyes over his soda. His finger tapped idly against the side. Nyx blinked at the calculating gaze hiding behind the typical teenage apathy. “Then just use my guest shower.” He nodded over his shoulder towards the hall. “Iggy keeps it stocked with stuff.” A sarcastic smirk graced the Prince’s lips for a flash second. “And if something goes wrong you can run out in a towel.” 

A laugh tore its way out of Ferox’s mouth. He tried to choke back its fellows, but couldn’t. That image: Nyx fighting intruders in a bath towel. That was the best image ever. “I’d certainly feel safer. The enemies might be so stunned by your naked glory, me and the Prince could get away.” 

Nyx huffed, it ruined by the smirk he had. “Are you sure you wouldn’t get too distracted, Fero?” Ferox grinned. 

“I’ve seen you in a towel plenty of times, Nyx, and while it is always a pleasure, I’m sure I’ll keep my wits about me.” He gave a mock bow, hand on his heart. Nyx rolled his eyes. “Now, please obey your Prince’s wishes and take a damn shower before it starts to mold, hm?” 

Nyx looked back and forth between the two for a second. “I don’t think he actually ordered me.” 

Noctis shrugged, “I can if you want me to.” 

“Somehow I don’t think your kind of ordering would work, Your Highness,” Ferox mumbled. Noctis shot a glare towards him. He only smirked and Noctis’s glare was disarmed. The kid looked completely baffled by the sight. Ferox furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden wide-eyed look he was getting. 

The Prince blinked, eyes shooting down to the ground. Nyx cocked an eyebrow as he looked towards Ferox. ‘What was that about?’ his eyes seemed to ask. Ferox gave a helpless shrug. He touched his hood, making sure it was still in place. He had checked his makeup after the brat threw the food. So he didn’t think there was anything screaming Imperial…well… 

His eyes, he supposed. They were far too light for most people. It wasn’t really an Imperial trait; blue eyes were common among all people…but his were the palest blue he had seen on anyone, albino or no. He was pretty sure it came from gene-splicing genes that coded for albinism without the normal health problems they caused. Either way, his eyes unsettled people. 

A few heartbeats passed before Nyx let out a reluctant sigh. “Fine, fine. But just so we’re clear, if anyone breaks in, Fero, you’re on your own until I get pants on.” 

Ferox cocked an eyebrow with a wicked smirk. “ _Just_ pants? Nothing else?” His eyes sparkled with mischief as Nyx narrowed his eyes. The other Glaive seemed to weigh his next words carefully. 

“You don’t need to know that information, Fero.” 

***** 

Noctis tapped his phone’s screen, gathering in King’s Knight. The shower down the hall was about the only other noise. Tv had nothing on this late, at least nothing that he hadn’t already seen. He was too tired to walk the three feet to grab a controller and work through a few levels of...whatever game he had loaded. Shit when was the last time he felt like playing? 

He shook his head slightly. His gaze shifted to the other Glaive. He paced silently along the windows. Noctis didn’t know if he was using them as a mirror to discreetly watch him, or if he was actually looking out them. He assumed the former. 

He frowned, eyes snapping back to his screen. Why the hell did he seem so familiar? And why did his heart do a weird little flutter earlier when he smirked? Not that Noctis didn’t already know the answer… 

It was the kind of flutter you get when someone who is unbelievably gorgeous smiles at you. He hadn’t gotten a very good look—mostly to avoid Prompto reading too much into it—back at the diner, so it was kind of a shock to get another full face view. A good shock, mind you. The guy could’ve been a model: high and pronounced cheekbones, sculpted jaw, flawless skin, the whole works. It was like someone photoshoped him into Noct’s living room. 

But…Noctis’s eyes flitted back to him. His eyes were really what caught his attention. So pale and bright that the dark eyelashes around them seemed fake, like they somehow didn’t match. There was something about those eyes that **really** made him seem familiar. Those eyes would be unmistakable basically…Noct was totally not fawning over him. Nope. It was all because he was familiar. 

He worked to push down a blush the thought tried to conjure. He wasn’t some little kid that got crushes on anybody pretty; he never was, so he didn’t see why he’d start this late in life to be normal. He was just worried it looked like he was having stupid schoolboy crushes on any guy that smiled at him. That’s the lie he was going with though. 

His phone vibrated with a message, thankfully breaking his thoughts. He shut down his game, not that he was really paying attention to it anyways. A tap on his message app brought up the text. 

Ignis, 9:45pm: Are you still awake Noct? 

…Seriously? Why would he be asleep on a Friday? 

Noctis, 9:50pm: Yep 

Ignis, 9:50pm: Is it too much to ask that you are awake studying? 

Noctis, 9:52pm: you don’t need to know…  
You’re sighing aren’t you?  


Ignis, 9:53pm: I asked Cor for their files as you requested 

Noctis, 9:54pm: And???????? 

Ignis, 9:55pm: Nyx has exemplary service for the past eight years with only a few marks against him for disobeying direct orders  
Most often it was to help a comrade or civilian  


Noctis, 9:56pm: Okay but he’s not Hooded McSuspcious.  
Cool for him tho  
What about the other one???  


Ignis, 10:00pm: It was rather strange 

Noctis, 10:01pm: Why? Did he have a huge file? Lots of marks? What? 

Ignis, 10:01pm: It was incomplete 

Noctis, 10:02pm: Wait what?  
How can it be incomplete?  
Is he new or something?  


Ignis, 10:03pm: No, he joined seven years ago.  
No files about his service, other than he was in the Guard previously  


Noctis, 10:03pm: So why is it incomplete? 

Ignis, 10:05pm: I’ve a theory 

Noctis, 10:06pm: Okay? 

Ignis, 10:07pm: It is not unusual for the Guard or the Glaive to omit things from public records such as service files.  
The file will often serve as a decoy so to speak. Most of the information is missing to look as though it is incomplete.  


Noctis, 10:10pm: So……..there’s something in his file people aren’t supposed to know? 

Ignis, 10:11pm: It makes the most sense.  
You would have to request access from the King or Clarus most likely.  


Noctis, 10:11pm: Shit  
So there was absolutely nothing in the public file?  


Ignis, 10:18pm: I wouldn’t say nothing.  
His height, weight, age, and name were all in there. Along with some notes from his time in the Guard. I will send you a picture of what notes I could jot down.  


Noctis waited a minute for the picture to download into his messages before clicking it into full view. In Ignis’s insanely neat and flawless handwriting lay the list. Noct was pretty sure the real notes were nothing more than scribbles that only Ignis could decipher or understand what they meant. He had seen the guy take notes in meetings before after all. So this was the ‘other people need to read it’ copy of the notes. Thankfully. Ignis’s normal half-print, half-cursive writing was hard to read on paper, let alone a tiny phone screen. 

Name: Ferox Aisa  
Height: 6’2”  
Birthdate: Nov 13, 730  
Birthplace: Blank  
Guard Active since: Dec 746  
Glaive Active since: July 747  
Training Supervisor: Cor Leonis  
Personnel Supervisor: Cor Leonis  
Test Scores:  
Marksmanship: Exemplary  
Swordsmanship: Exemplary  
Magical Aptitude: Blank  
Technical Aptitude: Exemplary  
Other skills: Botany (emphasis on poisons and other alchemical remedies), healing, infiltration, multiple languages, machinery/guns, and light magic  


He let all that sink in for a moment. Beyond the distinct lack of information and the one blank, it seemed perfectly normal. Well…sorta. His eyes fell upon Cor’s name. 

Noctis, 10:21pm: Huh...it’s weird that Cor would be his supervisor even when he’s in the Glaive. 

Ignis, 10:22pm: It is strange that the Marshal would be anyone’s supervisor at all, Noct. He does not usually train people personally. 

Noctis stared at the screen for a moment longer. Why would the Marshal train some random Glaive? And why did that niggle a bell in the back of his head? He frowned at the screen. His eyes scanned it again as though that would help his brain follow the thread. Something caught his eye just as his phone screen turned black. 

Stupid auto-lock! Noctis muttered a few curses as he unlocked his phone. His eyes flitted over the picture, looking for that word...Once, twice, finally on the third try his eyes found the word. Well. Name. 

Aisa. Some deep repressed part of his brain that remembered all the schooling on manners and nobility sparked to life. However, he couldn’t make his brain recall if that was a noble family or a vassal’s. 

Noctis, 10:25pm: Iggy, why does the name Aisa sound familiar? 

If it was a noble family, Ignis would know instantly. The guy had a wicked memory for high society. 

Ignis, 10:27pm: The Aisa’s, if memory serves, are a noble family from Tenebrae. 

Tenebrae? Noct’s mind automatically flashed to Luna’s hand slipping out of his dad’s hand as they ran. He shook his head from the uncomfortable knot tangling it up. He went to reply. Three little dots blinked, stopping him. 

Ignis, 10:28 pm: I believe they were the Shields so to speak of Lady Lunafreya’s family. 

Noctis’s eyes widened. He didn’t think the Oracle had a Shield, at least he didn’t remember one. Then his eyebrows furrowed. His mind flashed to Queen Sylvia. If they had Shields, why the hell didn’t they protect her? Why the hell was one in Insomnia? 

Noctis, 10:30pm: Wtf? Why the hell is he here then? 

Ignis, 10:30 pm: Only he would know.  
I doubt he would be keen to discuss though.  
Perhaps, you’ve met him in Tenebrae?  


Noct frowned. He supposed he could have, and given he avoided thinking about his time in Tenebrae, it would explain why he can’t remember him very well. But it didn’t sit well with him. His mind flashed to the white journal on his desk. 

Noctis, 10:32pm: I could ask Luna I suppose. 

Ignis, 10:32pm: That seems to be the best course.  
Do be careful about it, Noct.  
You never know who else might see it.  


Noctis rolled his eyes at the ominous statement. Who the hell would care about correspondence between him and Luna? Luna was technically still a princess and Tenebrae was a sovereign state within the Empire. Plus, Umbra was the messenger; he wouldn’t hand over the journal to anyone other than Luna. 

Noctis, 10:35pm: Paranoid much? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...so...about the long wait...life sucks??? Well sorta. I have another story that takes a really long time to finish a chapter, and it hadn't been touched in a year so I obviously finished that one but this one languished. So...sorry? And yeah like I said I'm tired and would rather get a small boring chapter out than try to slog through 15 more pages and pull another year. We'll get somewhere I swear! Next chapter literally starts the "what the hell is going on in Insomnia" part! 
> 
> So yeah. Thanks for waiting if you are one of the 12 who were waiting. If you are new here, thank you as well. Have a lovely day!

**Author's Note:**

> The world of Eos, all characters (except Ferox and other random NPCs) and any dialogue from either the movie or the game are all Square Enix's. I've just built upon things, twisted some things, and shoved things together to suit me and my needs. Creative Freedom and all that.
> 
> I don't have a writing schedule or posting schedule, so I'd recommend bookmarking or subscribing or whatever sends out emails for you when a new chapter is posted. Cause I don't think I'm ever going to get a regular pattern going. You can ask for updates sure, but please note anyone asking when any chapter will be done will be answered with: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Kudos and Bookmarks/Subscriptions are always welcome, but comments give life. As always, thank you for reading!


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